'Keep mundane.' the letter ended. Tears rolled down her delicate rosy cheeks as Zyda finished reading the note left behind by her parents. Two days have passed since the death of her parents, and she is now left alone with her 16-year-old brother Rolam in a two-storeyed house with three bedrooms, a sitting room, and a kitchen. The house felt somber and empty at that moment.

Zyda was engulfed in an ocean of thoughts when her brother Rolam came in. He was a sixteen-year-old boy with mussed caramel hair that covered his head and ended at the neckline, part of his hair covered his left eye, a sharp and dominant nose he possessed, prominent jaws that twitched further enhancing his beauty, keen black eyes that showed no emotions and full pink lips that were lustrous.

Staring at her sister emotionlessly, Rolam softly called his sister, "Zyd?"

Zyda had sat on the couch in the sitting room, holding a cushion at which, besides her, was the large glass table where the unfolded letter rested.

"Hi Ro, how was school today!" she replied, trying to sound cheerful and wiping her now swollen, puffy eyes that gave out her ashen face.

Zyda was on her way to school in the morning when she received the letter; her brother rushed home when he received the news. He had entered the house, and his eyes landed on his sister's sad face. He hated seeing Zyda looking glum; he was used to the bubbly and cheerful Zyda.

Rolam headed to his room, pulling his headphones off, silently ignoring his sister's question.

Zyda was two years older than Rolam. She was a chubby-faced girl with attractive features, and to be precise, she was exquisite. Rolam never talked much and always wore a poker face. Zyda always mastered his mood through his quietness and endeavored to care for him since childhood. Their parents had died without a trace, and now they have to look after themselves.

"The night's silent and the sky's starless, its a stark night indeed," a soft male voice recited. Rolam was busy consoling his heart while reading his favorite book of poems. Whenever he was in a bad mood, he would bury himself in poetry. His heart ached when he saw his sister crying, and she later put on a dynamic font in front of him. He wanted to do something to console her but didn't know what exactly to do.

Meanwhile, Zyda took a walk to the beach with the crumpled piece of paper in her hands. It was the strange letter she had read earlier, written by her parents.

She was still contemplating what the letter meant by 'Keep mundane.' But what was clear was that it was something mysterious. Something sinister was bound to happen to the siblings. It was a game of fate. Zyda sat on the sandy beach; she listened and stared at the ocean waves that swayed back and forth in rhythm. It calmed her throbbing nerves making her sorrow vanish at that moment.

"Keep mundane, I wonder what mum and dad meant! " she softly murmured to herself, her eyes glued on the ocean waves.

The next day was the funeral after the bodies were removed from the morgue. This implied that the bodies had spent two days in the mortuary.

Clad in black suits and glasses, solemn, tall men swiftly pulled out two coffins placed in a vast black van parked in front of the Sylph family house. The front yard was big enough to accommodate four cars. The vicinities were homely and cozy, but at the moment, everything felt like purgatory.

The Sylph family was large; thus, many relatives came to bid farewell to their bereaved.

"May their souls rest in eternal peace." the priest sadly concluded after the long session of prayers, and with that, some of the close relatives gave their eulogies to the crowd. A vast majority of the people felt pity for the two siblings.

White flower in hand, Zyda threw it last into the grave, and that's when fresh tears strew down her cheeks as she watched her parents disappearing into the ground chambers. Rolam, who stood beside her, pulled her into an embrace, maintaining his unreadable poker face. He rubbed his sister's back silently.

Despite his poker face, his heart ached and bled internally, but he couldn't express it physically. Reminiscing memories, Zyda clenched her brother's black shirt painfully, wetting it with her warm tears. Feeling her pain, Rolam further tightened his embrace, and that's the least he could do if at all it would vanish a pint of her sorrow. He ensured her with a shoulder to cry on; he was there for there.

Just like the wind, the day passed. The siblings lost track of time with the continuous condolences received from their close relatives.

"Zyd! we are here for you. You can come to my place if you need anything," an elegant old lady dressed in black anxiously told Zyda and hugged her firmly.

"Thanks, aunt Reina." Zyda responded, sniffling in the embrace. 

As usual, Rolam simply nodded in acknowledgment, wearing his poker face. Only he knew just how excruciating his heart was. 

Their housekeeper spent a night that day so she could cater to them.

It was around 7 pm when the guests came to the Sylph house. It was almost dinner time. Zyda had locked herself in a room that belonged to her. She spent her time sobbing and simply couldn't accept her parent's death, and it was a nightmare that would soon vanish once awake.

'Yesterday they were laughing happily, and today they are gone!?' She painfully thought. Only their memories and photos were left behind as evidence that they once existed.

A soft knock on her bedroom door brought her back to reality, but she nonchalantly ignored it.

Filled with worry, the knocker shouted, "Zyd! don't do something stupid!. Please open the door now. If not, I-" he was cut off by the clicking sound of the door.

"You'll do what! Huh?" she said, attempting to sound emotionless with the door ajar. But the moment she looked at her brother, she burst into tears.

"Zyd! can't you just hold onto yourself. How long are you going to lock yourself in this damn room! " Rolam bellowed.

" At least try to..." He attempted to respond, only to once again be interrupted.

"Try to what, Ro? Tell me, what should I do? I just can't stop. Please tell me it's all a dream!" she wiped, burying her face in her arms.

Clenching his fists in anger, Rolam harshly spurt out, "It's the damn reality! Do you think I'm not hurting? if you don't stop crying, I'm getting the hell outta here!"

A taut silence enough to hear a dropping needle followed.

"You know what, Rolam!?" Zyda broke the silence; now emotionless, she stared into his black orbs.

 "You can just go! I don't need you! Never speak to me again!" she yelled, slamming the door in his face.

"Fine," he whispered, clenching his fist harder.

It was the first time his sister called him by full name. He felt terrible, and instead of helping his sister out, he resorted to scolding her. He simply accepted his fate.

Zyda leaned on the door for a moment; her heart ached; it felt like her heart was ripped into pieces. She felt bad for her brother, but she couldn't undo the done. She subconsciously walked toward her bed, and when her head landed on the pillow, she drifted into a slumber.