Taecyeon

I unhurriedly ingest the fact that behind that door rests my mother and little sister. My mind is in disarray, my heart hammering in my chest, my limps are shaking and my ears bright red. I sigh deeply, letting the tension flow out as I spread my arms in the air. Carefully, I push the door open, creating an extremely meager slit. I don't dare peek –I can't. Then when the pounding stopped, I push the door wider.

Before me is a girl I barely recognize. Yumi has changed, a lot for that matter. She sits in a chair, her hand clasping my mother's IV tubes-accessorized hand. She's exceedingly thin, her skin is pale and waned and under her gray eyes sleeps two dark bags indicating her lack of sleep. Her eyes are open, she's awake but she doesn't notice me, her eyes are also rimmed with pink circles and the same hue dominates her nose, lips and ears. Furthermore, I notice that she has grown her hair longer, it reaches down to her stomach, lingering on her arms as they rest on her book. Mother on the other hand only aged, but I can still see her beauty. She had ivory skin, much healthier than Yumi's and dark brown hair that matches the color of her big brown eyes. Her relatively long hair is spread out onto the pillow and her needle-free hand has wires attaching her pulse to the heart monitoring machine. She's soundly sleeping, her breathing is prevailing over the silence of the room and the dull peeps of the machines are deafened by it.

My eyes are flooded with tears, it aches me to see them like that. Yumi seems older than she is as her head hangs in the air, her fingers tenderly my mother's hand. I grit my teeth and my jaw is clenched, my nostrils flare as I fight back tears inundation.

I stand at the door, undetermined on how to approach Yumi without scaring her, so I take refuge in the door and I knock three times clearly and loudly.

Her head snaps up, gray eyes scan the room; she's trying to identify the source of the voice and wonders in a throaty voice, "Mrs. Carcax?"

I don't know what to answer so I bring myself closer to her and rest my hand on her small head, "I'm home,"

Yumi gasps, her hand is over her heart, her breathing performs a concert on its own and she starts to weep, "Thank God," she whispers, her voice is drawn into the back of . She unknowingly paints a smile on my face and places her hand on mine, "Welcome home," she says tiredly.

I ruffle her dark hair, "You've changed," I imply.

She nodes and smiles, her eyes are directed to the ground, her face is nudging unconsciously as if she's on an endless endeavor to find a twinkle of color. The traitors invade my face, their salty taste caresses my lips and I hold my breath, not wanting to sniff. I near my mother in the bed and warily her forehead, sweat is damping it and the wrinkles around her eyes are deepening as each breath escapes her nose.

My chin trembles, I fold my lips to form a stern line, creases appear on my forehead and my eyes sting more than ever. The feeling of a sharp object obstructing my respiration hurts and I clear my throat.

"Taec?" she mumbles.

My heart isn't that far away from having a , her voice clouds me. It's so weak and fragile, as if the very wind can shatter its existence. Her eyes are open into slits, a sweet, fatigued smile spreads on her face, her eyes are gleaming and soon, tears exit from their shelter.

Yumi presses mother's hand, her crying is enough for me to break down and wail but I'm here to support them, not make the matter any worse. "Momma," she begins with that destructively helpless voice. "I called him," strenuously making her voice deliberately lighter.

Mother's smile doesn't fade, rather it extends on her face beautifully, "Good girl,"

She sniffs and finally smiles widely, her hand move across the air and I know she's gesturing for me to hold her hand and I do, squeezing it lightly, "Thanks for coming, Taec. We missed you," the left side of her lips is extended more than the right one, making her dimple dive deeply into her flesh.

"I missed you guys too," and I can't help but embrace her.

Her small hands are curled up on my chest and I pull her away quickly, feeling how thin she is, "Have you been eating?" I say anxiously.

She blushes for some reason and my expression is wondrous. She rubs her right eye and then her hand moves to her hair as she pushes an annoying strand of hair off her forehead, "I've always been like that, Taecyeon,"

"It's not pretty, if that's what you girls think,"

Her eyes widen and she flicks them off the ground and rests them to my left then she starts to giggle feebly and she coughs, "No, it's not what I think,"

We hear our mother laughs a little too then comments meagerly, "Yumi's weight has been the same ever since she was thirteen,"

My eyes bloat, "Excuse me? How's that possible?"

"She has her own diet," mother chuckles as she barely scoffs Yumi.

Yumi's cheeks are flushed and she looks in the direction of where mother is reclining, "I do not. It's just I don't like food," she itches the back of her hand timidly as she whines.

However, abruptly, she holds her stick and stands up, "I'll go see where Mrs. Carcax is,"

"No, I'll-," I begin to say but she interrupts, "Momma misses you Taec, she wants to talk to you. You stay here and don't worry, I memorized the hospital's departments," she assures me.

She moves her cane in front of her sideways, slowly so as not to tap anything loudly, she begins to walk and reaches the wall, then her hand is spread on it, she stops, turns around and smiles, "I'm really happy you're home," she then marches ahead gingerly and leaves me with my mother.

"She really did change," I repeat lamely. "She's gotten prettier,"

"That's the fate of every girl," mother teases and I laugh. "More importantly, Taecyeon," she says, her voice is gaining a serious octave to it and I heed.

She wets her lips nervously, "I know I'm not going to survive,"

I chock on the air, "Wh-what?"

She sighs, "Don't get all dramatic like Yumi, it makes it hard," she's irritated.

I can't believe how strong mother is, it's almost maddening. How could she say something like that? How does she know that I'll be able to handle that? I shake my head quickly, vibrating incessantly. She glances up at me from the wall opposite her and she protracts her hand for me to hold. I take her gently, she's shuddering; she is frightened. I stare at her hand, how the wrinkles formed a map on her skin, the veins visible and protruding from her flesh. I look up at her to find her weeping silently, her nose maroon and her lips moistened, "I'm sorry I'm not strong enough,"

The eruption of tears sets my face alight, I sob as I wring her hand, "No Ma, don't say that,"

Her temples are now wet with tears and I take a tissue and wipe them closely. "I'm already seventy two years old, I've lived a long happy life thanks to both of you," she moves her hand and places it softly on my cheek, her thump is petting it, "I'm proud of you," her voice is small but profound as she says that.

I engulf her hand with mine, "Thank you Ma. You made me this way, I owe it to you," I posses no magical words and my eyebrows weave closer as I close my eyes and then open them slowly to find her staring at me, her smile fading a bit than before, "I need you to do something for me. It's a huge responsibility, I know and it's probably not fair too but you're your sister's only family, she's got no one,"

I nod vigorously, the austere situation is getting perilous and I'm afraid of breaking down and curling into a ball.

"Take good care of your sister, Taecyeon. She's still a child,"

…

My mother leaves us on the third day of my stay. We arrange her funeral and I take care of all the procedures, Yumi cries a lot, she never stops. It has been four days since mom died and ever since then she never ceased. Wandering through the house, she often bumps into objects, sometimes scrapes her skin but she doesn't mind. Today was the burial's day and I arranged a black dress for her while I wore my own clothes, yet she doesn't wear it.

"Mom's not gone," she says and I try my best to console her but she's stubborn. "She's coming in any moment now,"

Mrs. Carcax often visits and talks with Yumi while I get busy with the funeral proceedings. She's the one who convinces Yumi to change her clothes and we drive to the cemetery. Soon after people knew mother lost her life, swarms of them come to console and comfort us. I meet a lot of people who some I remember and the other not even a glimpse of a memory sparks in my head indicates that I met them before. A boy of eighteen or so approaches Yumi who is sitting on a chair, her hand is clutching my clothes, refusing to let go. Her eyes puffy with crying, her lips and nose are also swollen, "I'm sorry for your loss, Yumi,"

She shakes her head and her fingers dig deeper in my clothes, "She'll be back," she whispers.

Mrs. Carcax kisses the boy on the cheek and says, "Thanks sweetheart," and when he leaves, she glances up at me and says, "That's Ian Forsmith. Do you remember professor Forsmith?"

I shake my head unable to recall and I shrug, shaking a couple's hand, the woman draws near Yumi and pecks her then hugs her, "Your mother is dear to us and we are very sorry that you lost someone so special,"

Yumi bites her lower lip and she bobs her head, her hair falling over her face and covering it. Noticing that, Mrs. Carcax takes a hairpin out of her hair and pulls Yumi's locks together and fixes them on the back of her head, her bangs gets brushed by Mrs. Carcax's cynical fingers.

…

The funeral ends and we all walk over to our house, my hand is holding Yumi's as I pull her and help her walk without her cane. It's been four days since I came and I only have a day to stay in the US, so I nudge Yumi and stop her, "Yumi," I say abruptly.

She looks up, her eyes are fixed on my shoulder, "Hm?" she answers wearily.

 "We are moving to Korea," 

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I'm sorry if this is getting boring and dramatic but I promise things will change as soon as they move to Korea. ^ w ^

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