A flash of lightning brings me out of my thoughts, just before I can get too deep. But only away from him. I've started this, decided to revisit my past. And it isn't ending now. Even as I'm steps away from the end, on the edge.

I sigh as my mind races back to it's train of thought. Back to exactly eleven months ago.

On the day of the hospital incident, when they had finally managed to send me home, telling I needed 'rest' - more like 'get lost, we don't need more hassle' - I had gone straight home. I wasn't thinking straight, I wanted to get home, for my mum to give me a hug and tell me everything was okay, for my dad to chuckle and tell me I'd feel better soon. But they weren't there. I couldn't have that. I never would have it, from that day, ever again.

When I arrived home, I had found myself unable to stand the house, too many ghosts, the emptiness of it sending shivers down my spine. No mum cleaning the kitchen, with endless nagging. No dad snoring on the sofa. Ironic, how the things that once bugged me about them, I now longed for the most...

Flashback

My vision was still blurry as I stared around the dark living room. My eyes zeroed in on the phone, hanging from the wall, where I'd left it. I could hear the monotonous 'Beep' from where I stood. Slowly, I made my way towards the phone, flinching away from familiar objects, refusing to see the room. My hand idly reached out, and I placed the handset back on the receiver. Finally, from where I stood in the centre of the room, I looked around. I absorbed the empty couch, the lonesome arm chair, the quiet TV. Finally, my eyes came to rest on the yellow post it note I had retrieved earlier. And finally, the newly awarded ghost house was too much for me to handle.  Not a moment later, I shook my head furiously. I couldn't stay here. If I did, I'd drive myself crazy, I knew that. 

I fled the room, racing toward the front door. I didn't know where I was going, but I didn't care. At that moment, nothing mattered. Nothing. But before I could fling the door aside, I froze. I thought I hearda noise... a yell, a voice of some sort, breaking the stoney silence of the house. I slowly turned, looking towards the stairs. Did I hear something?

I turned back to the door, grabbing the keys from the hook and locking it, before turning and heading up the stairs. I crept past the other rooms, listening silently.

And I heard it again. This time it wasn't so muffled. A small incoherent sob.

It came from my par-... Their room. Just one small noise, but it was so full of sadness and grief, that it could've been a thousand crying babies. 

And then it hit me.

No longer hesitant, I stopped in front of the door, raising a shaking hand to push it. The door creaked open, my eyes instinctively settling on the centre of the room, on the bed.  A small figure with dark brown hair sat doubled over, his head in his hands as he sat stock still, his clenched jaw just visible along with his tightly gritted teeth. His hands weren't moving, as he sat, his shoulders not even raising nor falling as he did so, neither was there any sign to indicate his well being. The only difference between this boy and a statue, was the distressed but low noises suddenly coming from his direction. I recognised the noise that had alerted me to his presence. It wasn't a weep, nor a sob, but a strangled and held back cry. The sounds I had heard were the small noises managing to slip past his restraint. His hands shook, tembling that seemed beyond his control. I stood frozen in the door way, my heart wrenching painfully at the sight.

He knows.

Here I was, being a selfish child, wrapped up in my own feelings, nearly going crazy and not willing to think straightly, even as an almost 19 year-old  girl. Meanwhile, here was this strong boy of only 16, even though he could pass for older, alone and dealing with it. Even if that meant holding back his screams and sitting alone, he was dealing with it. This was him, keeping it in tact, holding himself together. My sensitive dongsaeng, my baby of a sibling that I'd always looked ou