ENG - My best friend's sister ᵐᶦᵏᵉʸ ˣ ᵒᶜ

73

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Meiyo POV

I am jolted out of sleep with a nasty stomach rumble. The nausea is so overwhelming that I instinctively press my hand in front of my mouth and rush to the bathroom like a sprinter. Fortunately, I reach the toilet bowl in time to throw up. My whole body shakes from the effort of retching, and sweat pours out in streams on my forehead as all my stomach contents end up in the bowl. When I finally feel like nothing is going to follow, I hit the flush button and take a deep breath.

Exhausted and wracked with nausea, I laboriously make my way to the sink and take a moment to brush my teeth and wash my face. As I look in the mirror, a miserable face stares back at me with pale skin and dark circles under my eyes; I look wiped out. The reflection reflects exactly what I feel - completely miserable and drained.
As I continue to look at myself in the mirror, memories of the previous night surface. I can remember Mikey taking me to that place where we danced together...how our lips met. A slight smile involuntarily flits across my lips at this thought.

Immediately, I shake my head to dispel these thoughts and leave the bathroom. Plagued by fatigue and tormented by a bad hangover, I stroll heavily back to my room, but I don't quite reach it.
"Come here, booze hound," my brother calls from the living room. Sighing, I look down the hallway, that's right, my brother caught me coming home drunk. Hesitantly I walk into the living room where he immediately gets up from the couch when he sees me. He points his finger at the couch, symbolizing me to sit down. Slowly, I do as he says and lower myself onto the couch.
He stands in front of me with his arms crossed and looks at me angrily. I can't meet his gaze, so I look around the living room to avoid his gaze. Inevitably, my eyes fall on the clock hanging on the wall - it's 5:28 pm.

An awkward silence spreads between us, and we both say nothing. I'm actually waiting for him to yell at me. But there is just endless minutes of silence. The longer he's quiet, the more nervous I get and start frantically playing with my fingers.
Finally, he breaks the silence and speaks my name - "Meiyo," and I flinch because it's so sudden. But then there's a long pause, during which he takes several deep breaths in and out, before finally asking, "Where have you been?" You can hear from his voice that he's trying to stay calm. I bite my lip and shrug, unsure how to answer. "Gone," I finally say meekly. "And where exactly?" he probes. Again, I just shrug my shoulders.

"Meiyo!" he suddenly calls my name louder, and I cringe again.
"I don't know, it was some club, I've never been there! I don't even know what neighborhood it was in!" it suddenly bursts out of me, my fear growing with every word.
"Who the hell was with you?" he asks, his voice still quivering with anger. I swallow hard, this is actually the perfect opportunity to tell him about Mikey and me. He's already angry anyway, can't get much worse.
"With someone I met," I lie, feeling my chest tighten.
"Meiyo," he says my name in a fearsome tone of voice. I avoid looking at him, but can literally feel his piercing gaze. "Who is it? What bastard were you out getting drunk with?" he asks angrily and loudly. I remain stubbornly silent, refusing to answer. "And what club gives alcohol to a minor anyway? You're not 18 yet," he continues.

The more he talks, the worse my headache becomes as he speaks way too loudly.
"I'll be 18 in three weeks, so it hardly makes a difference, these few days," I mutter, continuing not to look at him.
"Tell me, are you kidding me?" he asks angrily, kicking the table in front of the couch. I flinch violently, starting to get really scared of him.
"Do you have any idea how worried I was when I came home and you were just gone? Without finding a note? You can't imagine how crazy I almost went!" he continues to yell, getting even louder than before.
"I'm sorry...", I give softly, looking at him for the first time. "You're sorry? I don't give a fuck, Meiyo," he says irritably. Seeing his angry face, I lower my gaze to my hands, which are clawing tightly into my top.

After an awkward silence that felt like an eternity, he finally breaks it with a calmer voice that is nonetheless laced with reproach and disappointment, "Since when did you become so irresponsible?"
This question hits me like a blow. Irresponsible? A dark smile creeps onto my face because I thought I had misheard. Now I get angry, and a flood of indignation washes over me. I literally jump up from the couch and glare angrily at him. But my initial courage evaporates in a split second as I look into his angry eyes. A lump forms in my throat, but I force myself to suppress my fear of my own brother and continue to look at him. My heart races with anger, and I yell back now, too, with no restraint.
"Irresponsible? This from your mouth? You who never took responsibility?", I boldly retort as I try to keep my gaze in his eyes. "You are by far worse than I could ever be. So spare me your ramblings about responsibility," I hiss. We're still looking angrily at each other, and it's almost as if the tension between us is palpable.
His eyes widen with anger, and he now roars, "We're worlds apart. I can take care of myself, but you? You'll always be helpless, small and weak, no matter what you try!"

Shocked, I look at him and tears come to my eyes, but I press my lips tightly together and refuse to cry in front of him. His words hit me like an ice-cold shiver.
"You can be so mean, you know that?", I whisper, my voice brittle with anger. "Being small and weak doesn't mean I can't take responsibility for my life," I reply in a shaky voice as I try to hold back the tears that are welling up. "And you can't always take care of me. I can take care of myself, just like the years before. So stop just barging into my life and suddenly playing big brother!", I yell at him. I'm suddenly so angry at him. I break eye contact and snort once, really struggling not to bawl.

After an agonizing silence that seems like hours, he breaks it with a serious tone, "You're never going to do shit like that again, and whoever that person is that you met, you're not going to see them again."
Startled, I widen my eyes. Is this really what's important to him?
"You can't just control my life and tell me who I can or can't see," I yell back, my voice still quivering with anger.
"I'm doing this because I love you and I want to protect you.You just don't understand," he yells as well.
"That's not love, that's possessiveness," I retort.
"You don't know what you're doing!" he hisses, glaring at me."This person is not good for you. She's only going to hurt you, and I'm not going to let that happen. So you better listen to me, I know what's best for you."

I clenched my fists, my nails digging painfully into my palms.
"You're so selfish," I whisper."You think you know what's best for me, but you don't know me at all! What do you know about me? My whole life you haven't given a shit about me, so don't tell me you know what's best for me.I'm an adult, damn it!"He shakes his head as if he has no understanding of my words. "You're an adult, but you don't act like it!You're just too naive to realize that I'm just trying to protect you.Someone has to do this because you're obviously incapable of making smart decisions!"
The anger inside me continues to grow. "And you think you can stop this by keeping me away from everything you don't like? That's not love, that's control!" He takes a step closer, his fists clenched. "This is your last warning. You will cut off contact with this person or there will be consequences."
"Consequences? What are you going to do, lock me up? Persecute me?", I yell challengingly. "You are not my guardian! I don't need you, I haven't needed you for 17 years and I'm not going to start needing you now. I hate you for interfering in my life and thinking you can rule over me!"

With these words I storm out of the room and leave him behind.
I go to my room and slam the door behind me.

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