"Darling, where did I leave my car keys again?"
As usual, Dad asked.
"They're in your jacket pocket. How often have I told you not to leave your keys lying around? What would you do without me?"
Mom replied with her usual nagging tone, though her voice had no anger.
"Haha, but I have you."
Dad spoke while planting a kiss on Mom's cheek. The two exchanged a sweet, cheerful goodbye kiss. The scene looked like a beautiful, radiant painting in the morning light. Marriage had never dulled their love.
"Sigh, it's not even morning, and Mom and Dad are already lovey-dovey. They don't care about us at all, hmph."
Their ten-year-old son muttered while chewing on his bread, pretending to grumble.
Dad tapped the boy lightly on the head, speaking with a half-smile.
"I heard there's a test at school today. Louis, if you don't get a perfect score, don't consider going to the amusement park."
"Aaaa, no way. You promised!"
Louis pouted.
Mom laughed. Dad also chuckled and ruffled Louis's hair. Only Louis blushed slightly, still puffing out his cheeks in protest.
The boy instinctively looked across the table.
His older brother Lucen sat there with his eyes lowered, quiet like a statue in a shrine. The sunlight bathed the room, but Lucen somehow remained in the shadows.
Their family sat facing one another, but Lucen seemed always to be the one who didn't quite belong.
Dad also looked over at Lucen. He let out a small sigh before saying,
"Lucen, I'm heading to work."
With that, he walked toward the door. Just as he was about to leave, a cold yet clear voice suddenly rang out. It was slightly hoarse from disuse.
"Dad, take care on the road."
Mom's eyes widened as she looked at Lucen. Even Dad turned back, surprised, before breaking into a warm smile.
"I'll bring home some cake tonight."
Louis immediately cheered and ran over to Lucen, chirping,
"Big bro, can I have the bigger piece? I love cake."
His eyes sparkled brightly, like stars shining in them. Lucen remained seated, gaze lowered, silently watching his little brother without replying.
Louis pressed his lips together. He stepped closer, his small hand gripping Lucen's shirt, and gently rested his head against his brother's thigh.
"I love you too... I'll give you the bigger piece, okay?"
"Louis, it's time to go."
Mom suddenly called out, pulling Louis away.
Louis was separated from his brother. He looked a little down but quickly turned to say,
"I'll come play with you this afternoon. I'm off to school now."
His cheerful voice was like that of a bit of bird. Unfortunately, this little bird would never receive a response.
At last, the door closed.
The room sank into silence, so still that it felt hard to breathe.
Lucen remained seated, his gaze lingering on the knife and fork on the table. He felt a faint itch spreading beneath the fabric of his shirt.
…
[Our reporter is now on the scene. Surveillance footage shows that a chain-reaction accident occurred on National Highway 5A. Over ten vehicles were involved, with more than thirty people injured and one person confirmed dead. Police have cordoned off the area and are investigating the cause of this tragic incident.]
The anchor's voice continued to drone on. It sounded mechanical, slightly distorted by static. The TV screen showed footage from the evening crash. In the distance, two blurry figures, one large and one small, were kneeling by the roadside, crying in agony.
"Bang!"
The door suddenly burst open.
Mother stumbled inside, her face as pale as paper, the corners of her eyes swollen and red. Her gaze was blank, lifeless, as if her soul had already left her.
Louis was still crying, his tears falling nonstop.
Just then, Mother suddenly staggered toward Lucen, who was sitting silently in his chair. She opened her arms and pulled him into a tight embrace. Her grip was so firm that the veins on her arms stood out, and you could even hear the sound of Lucen's bones being pressed. He struggled to breathe, and some color returned to his perpetually pale face for once.
"Sob sob... Lucen, your father is dead. Lucen, your father is dead!"
Mother wailed.
Louis rushed over and grabbed Lucen's hand tightly. "Brother... hic... sob sob..."
Suddenly, Mother froze.
At last, she let go of Lucen. Then, with both hands, she seized his shoulders. Her strength made it feel like she wanted to crush them.
Her bloodshot eyes turned deep red, her face twisted and contorted as she shouted in pain.
"Why aren't you crying? Why won't you cry, huh?!"
She shook him violently, then began punching and kicking.
"Cry! Come on, cry! Why aren't you crying?! Your father just died! Why won't you cry?!"
Lucen was kicked to the floor. His slightly long black hair fell over his face, hiding it completely. Blood trickled from his forehead, soaking his face and the floor. He lay there without moving, as if he truly were dead.
Cry? He couldn't remember the last time he cried.
Maybe the first time. The tenth time. The twentieth time. He still had tears to shed. But at some point, he had stopped crying.
Louis was still sobbing until his voice turned hoarse. He tried to pull his mother away.
"Mom, please don't hit him. Mama... sob sob... someone help, please... help..."
In the end, this tragic farce ended when the neighbors arrived and called the police.
Mother was taken away.
Louis was placed in the care of relatives.
Lucen stayed home.
"No, I want to be with my brother. I want to stay with my brother. Sob sob... Brother... Brother... I want to be with you!"
Louis cried and struggled, refusing to leave with the relatives. His eyes, wide and round, were filled with hope. He looked at his brother as if begging him to respond, even just a little.
But Lucen only turned away and shut the door.
...
"Brother..."
The room was pitch-black. Only moonlight spilled through the window, casting a dim and eerie light over everything.
Lucen sat in front of the mirror, ignoring the voice that suddenly echoed in his ears.
There was only one person in this room—him.
The boy in the mirror still looked young.
That's right, Lucen was only fifteen.
His straight black hair was too long, as if it hadn't been trimmed in ages. His skin was pale, almost ghostly, as though sunlight had never touched it. His body was thin, his jaw sharp, and his cheeks hollow.
Click.
His slender fingers habitually popped some pills out of a blister pack and tossed them into his mouth. No water. His Adam's apple moved slightly as he swallowed. The pills slid down, leaving only a faint bitterness in his throat.
Lucen suddenly pushed his bangs aside.
The wound there hadn't been bandaged, and it had scabbed over.
He raised a hand and casually peeled off the scab.
Fresh blood began to flow again.
It slid past his eye, down his cheek, gathered at his chin, and finally dripped to the floor.
"Bang!"
Lucen suddenly bent forward with all his strength. His forehead slammed into the table with a loud, resounding thud.
It felt as though his brain itself was wailing in pain, a pain no less intense than the impact from earlier that afternoon.
But Lucen acted as if nothing had happened. He sat up and did it again.
And again.
Faster and faster.
Until fresh blood covered both his eyes, turning his entire vision into a hellish blur.
"Ha..."
"Ha ha ha!"
Suddenly, Lucen began to laugh.
The laughter grew louder and louder.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The sound of his skull colliding with the table became louder and louder.
The table shook violently.
At last, Lucen's hand reached the sharp corner of the table.
He stood up, ignoring how everything in front of him swam and flickered from the impact to his head.
The corners of his lips curved into a gentle smile.
Then he let himself fall forward—
Crack!
Thud!
The table corner pierced through Lucen's eye.
Blood burst out at once.
His body collapsed onto the floor, twitching.
A mixture of blood and mangled flesh spilled from the hollow of his eye, soaking the ground.
And yet he was still smiling. Still happy.
After all, this world was fake.
Death wasn't eternal.
Only pain was real.
…
"Lucen, I'm sorry. I lost control yesterday. I'm so sorry. It must have hurt so much. I'm sorry."
Mother held Lucen close, gently, sobbing as she apologized.
She had calmed down. Remembering what she'd done the day before made her feel like her heart would shatter.
Lucen sat in the chair.
The wound on his forehead, the one caused by her, had been cleaned and bandaged by her own hands.
Louis sat nearby, watching with worry.
He dragged his chair close to Lucen, stood on it and gently blew on the wound.
In a soft voice, he said, "It doesn't hurt anymore. It's all better now."
He looked at his brother, then turned to look at their tearful mother.
Raising his voice, he said, "I'll grow up fast. I'll protect you and big brother so you don't have to worry anymore!"
"Yes, good boy Louis. Come have breakfast, sweetheart."
Their mother smiled through her tears and lovingly patted Louis's head.
Only Lucen kept his eyes on Louis, who was always downcast and saying nothing.
Louis would never grow up.
The teenage Louis would die on his eighteenth birthday.
How ironic.
Louis had always wanted to grow up, not knowing that the day he reached adulthood would also mark the end of his fate.
In the end, only this pitiful mother would remain, tormented and slowly going mad.
Then again, she wasn't the only mad one anymore.
Lucen suddenly smiled.
His hand reached out and gently caressed his mother's face.
She looked startled.
Her eyes widened slightly, then the tears came flooding back once more.
"We're going to be okay," she said softly.