Chan’s POV:
I let out a deep breath as I closed the door behind me. Finally back home. The last year of university was no joke. I don’t think I’ve ever felt as exhausted as right now. It was the first day of the summer break thus the first time in a few months that I visited my family.
For a few minutes, I just stood in the hallway, enjoying the feeling of coming home. “Chris?” I heard my Mum’s voice. “It’s really you!” In a matter of seconds, she embraced me in a warm hug. “Why are you here already? Didn’t you say, you’d only come in a week?”
I hummed in response. “Yeah, but I missed you all.” She let go of me unwillingly. In the blink of an eye, a sad smile flashed across her face.
“You can bring all your things upstairs, into your room. Take your time. Your father and I will wait in the living room. I’m glad you’re here.”
I took my suitcase and bag and carried them into my room. Nothing has changed, not that there was a reason why it would anyway. Except for… I quickly put my luggage on the ground next to my bed. The room opposite mine was my destination. I carefully knocked two times before entering.
“Hey Y/n, are you there?” The room wasn’t too big. It was definitely smaller than mine, reason enough for my younger sister to threaten me to move into it, once I moved out. Seemingly she changed her mind. I found her figure, sitting in an armchair close to the window. Her eyes were focused on a book in her hands. As always her long brown hair was tied up in a ponytail. Only a few strands appeared to have come loose over the day. I let myself fall onto the bed.
“You could’ve answered at least one of my messages,” I said jokingly.
“Why? If I did, you wouldn’t have had a reason to come home.” She teased me.
“Wow, you’re pretty confident you’re the only reason I would visit, huh?”
Her eyes grew big. “I’m not?” I mean, she was kinda right. I missed my sister a lot. We have always had a close relationship, even though she was four years younger than me. However, there was nothing I wouldn’t do for her.
“I missed Mum and Dad too.” Y/n finally turned around. It seemed like she wanted to say something but the playful look in her eyes quickly changed into worry.
“Chan!” I flinched under the harsh tone of her voice. Here at home, she was the only one who called me Chan. My parents always stuck to my English name. “You look terrible! Did you even get any sleep recently?”
I sighed. Not exactly the first thing I wanted to talk about after arriving but okay. “Not really, I’ve been having trouble sleeping again and assignments and the band are keeping me busy.” Her gaze got reproachful, causing me to go quieter with every word.
I heard my sister take a deep breath, but before she could say another word I cut her off and pointed at one of the many cardboard boxes that were standing in her room. I knew that she was worried about me, still, I didn’t want to talk about these kinds of things right now.
“Why are all your things packed up?” It was the first thing I had noticed when I entered the room. Cardboard boxes, everywhere. Only a few pieces of furniture were left. My gaze fell onto the last piece of decoration. It was a framed picture of Y/n and me. I remember the day this picture was taken, vividly. It was the day I left for university. My parents and Y/n had accompanied me to the airport, however, my sister's intention wasn’t to let me go. The picture showed her hugging me tightly and me laughing into the camera.
I lightly shook my head to get rid of the memories. Present day Y/n was still sitting in her armchair. By now she had closed the book and was just looking at me blankly.
I raised my brow. "Don't say that you're moving out. I thought you'd always wanted to go to a college that was close by."
"Well, I never knew you would move to a different country, either." A hurt expression appeared on my sister's face. And then there was silence lingering between us for a moment. A wave of guilt swept over me. It had never been my intention to leave her alone.
“I know-” I began, but stopped when I heard my mother's voice echoing through the hallway.
“Chris?” A few seconds passed before she spoke up again. This time standing on the doorstep. “Who are you talking to?”
I turned around to face her. “I’m just…just” Suddenly, my throat got too dry for me to get out another word. I looked at the empty armchair. Tears were rolling down my cheeks uncontrollably like they had been doing so often for the last couple of weeks and months.
My Mum let out a shaky breath. “Oh Chris” She hugged me again, but I couldn’t feel it, I hadn’t been able to feel anything for a long time. I had really tried to ignore all these feelings by drowning myself in work and assignments, but it seemed like they were able to catch up. “I know you miss her, but one day, you have to accept that she’s dead.”
