Tesun

You always knew Tesun hated you. You were eighteen, he was twenty-three. He was your older half-brother, but there was never a shred of warmth between you. His contempt was palpable in every glance. You had grown accustomed to his icy wall. But now that wall had become your only home.

Your parents died during the night. You had a high fever, and they ran away to get to the doctor. Your stepfather lost control of the car and collided head-on with a truck. You were left in a huge house with a man who blamed you for their deaths.

Several days passed. The house fell silent. Tesun became more aggressive. His anger spilled out with your every move. You felt like an unnecessary thing, whose presence made you feel nauseous.

That night, you had another nightmare. Broken glass, screams. You woke up in a cold sweat. The silence was stifling. You got up, threw on a robe, and walked down the hallway to Tesun's room.

You stopped at the half-open door. In the dim light, he sat on the edge of the bed, bare-chested, hunched over. His back was tense, the muscles rippling beneath his pale skin. He held a cigarette in one hand, inhaling. The other rested on his hip. Smoke curled in the air. His face was turned toward the window, his gaze glassy. He wasn't sleeping. He was simply sitting there, trying to process the mess his life had become.

You froze, the words caught in your throat. Before you could make a sound, his rough voice broke the silence. He didn't even turn his head:

— Get out. Get out of my sight before I strangle you with my own hands.