I walked blankly in a gloomy dusk sky. The air is cold, mist and fog envelop the streets and the sun is about to set. I hardly have my balance as if a tailwind is against me as I walk down the street. I can't breathe properly, it's as if the cold is freezing my lungs.
"How can this happen?" I whispered. "It was just a normal morning back then, but now…" I stopped on a near post and leaned on it. I stared at the crosswalk and realized my tears kept falling, like raindrops. "I don't like this.." I felt my chest tightening.
I took a step one at a time and I didn't even notice I already reached our house. I looked around and saw a familiar car.
"Dad is already here, huh.." I saw his car parked and entered the house. "I'm home." I casually said but my voice didn't come out naturally. It felt shaky.
I was waiting for a reply. He always rushes to the entrance to greet me "Welcome home!" with a gutsy smile as he holds the remote control and makes me watch TV with him every time I arrive from school but I guess he won't be able to because he's already---
"Oh, Kara, you're here.." dad seemed surprised. He was finding something because every box we stored in the attic was taken out. "Hey, sweetie."
"Uhm?" I replied. "What's going on?"
"Do we even have his picture?"
"Hai?" I was confused. I felt my blood drop in the cold. "Whose picture?" I asked but I knew who he was asking for.
"You know, Kid's picture…" he replied. "Do we even have any?" dad said desperately. "I've looked up from every box up there but I haven't found one. Have you kept any on your things?"
I saw the damned look on his face. He was exhausted, pained, guilty—a mix of emotions.
I looked down and looked away so I can't see his agonizing face. I can't really believe that time will come and my dad is going to wear that face. I went inside my room but he still continued to talk as if he was just casually finding something we have at home. I can still hear him though I'm not sure I understand every word he said.
I went to my closet and got the album I created for the past 3 years and got the only picture I've kept of him. I went downstairs and sat on the couch.
"Here!" I said, handing him the ID picture captured as a replacement for Kyle's tournament form.
"How did you get this?" dad's eyes glimmered as he saw the picture.
"Kyle was at the hospital that time and I need to turn in the form for a competition immediately so we went to a studio and got it captured," I explained.
"Thank goodness.." my dad sighed in relief. "I thought I'll never find any. Thank you."
He said thank you but why does it feel so hurtful?
Dad rushed to the cupboard in the living room, right above the kid's bedroom, and placed the picture beside a white urn.
"Hey, do you want to eat something?" dad asked the picture.
"Dad, what are you doing?" I asked him confusingly. I was about to reach his shoulder but the door suddenly opened.
"That might be your mom, Kara. C'mon kid, let's go greet her…" dad got the urn from the cupboard and went to the entrance saying, "Welcome back, Hon! Look Kid, greet your mom and welcome her home."
Mom was shocked to see her husband greeting her that she fell to her knees.
"No.." my mom said in despair. Her face was engulfed with a storm.
Then I realized, it was not because dad greeted her that she was shocked, it was because she saw the urn, and reminded her of what I rubbed at her this morning.
"You two just stop it!" I exclaimed. "Give me that urn and go to sleep!"
I got the urn from dad and placed it slowly on the cupboard.
"Can't you two give him proper treatment at least once or twice?" I exclaimed.
The two looked desperate and stared at the floor. I picked up the paper bag I left on the table and went back to the urn. I took out a box of cake and lit a candle.
"What's that, Kara?" dad asked as he looked at me with dreary eyes.
"Please, can't you act normal, even for just today? Respect his birthday, can't you?" I replied without even looking at them.
"I'm sorry Kid, I didn't bake it this time. I bought it at the bakeshop near the park, remember the cake I asked you to taste-test before, I actually bought it from the bakery. I'm sorry. Since then, you like the sweets from there, right?" I sniffed. "Anyway,--" I was held back by my tears. My chest tightened and I can't breathe properly, later I realized I was sobbing. "—Happy…Birthday Kid…"
"It was not his birthday, right?" dad said. "I mean, it should be 3 months away from now…"
"No Dad. That was Kyle's birthday."
"Don't they have the same birthday, I mea—"
"No." I glared at him. "He has a different one. We made up this day to celebrate his birthday. So please, at least for once…" My tears kept falling like rain. "Celebrate with him."
Mom cried on the floor. Dad dropped to his knees.
"Don't cry!" I exclaimed. "He was not allowed to cry in any way in this house, right? Don't be so biased."
They continued to cry, to wail. Dad went to the kitchen and I heard glassware breaking.
"I told you to celebrate not like this!" I screamed. "Please… please… do it for Kid…"
Mom cried. For the first time I saw her lament over Kid. It was the first time I saw her give him regards and care. It really looked like she had lost her own son. I can't imagine the pain and regret a mother could feel towards that son who she resented and treated like a tool for more than 6 years.
For all the hurting words I heard from her, the words he said in front of the urn left a big hole in my heart.
"I didn't even give him a proper Name…" she whispered.
My heart fell apart. I'm pretty sure dad felt the same. It was true that we never called him anything name-like other than Kid. It was not even a name. I was mad at myself.
We created that birthday celebration, but I never thought of giving him a name. I hate myself. I was not a good big sister to him after all.
"Save my little brother."
I remembered what I said earlier and I dropped to my knees as well. That guilt, that burden. I indirectly killed him. He was also my little brother. How could I?
"Smile everyone 'cause it's his birthday…."