Different

big bro, baby bro

When we are little, it’s our biggest dream to have a little sibling. I always wanted to have that little someone to play with and to share my car toys with, to have that little person who looks like me and take care of him or her. Almost all of my friends were big brothers, but I wasn’t one yet. Mom and dad said I had to wait.

But when I was six, my dream came true. I became a big brother, and as every big brother, I wanted to be the coolest older brother ever. I wanted to be the best, even better than my friends who were older brothers first. But now that I’m older, I think I might have failed…

I always noticed how different my little brother was from my cousins and the rest of my family. We looked alike, like any other family, but the difference was still there. He always had a different opinion, a different favorite toy, a different way of seeing things.

My family is very strict and calmed; they are more like a traditional family. They are always worried about our looks and grades. They would always worry about what others thought about us, and they would always point out a flaw when they saw one. Apparently, my little brother was one little person full of flaws, and they made sure he knew it. I know they didn’t do it with bad intentions, they just wanted him to change those flaws, but he never fixed those flaws. They weren’t even flaws; it was just him being himself. But they didn’t see it like that.

When my little brother was younger, he was quite hyper and talkative; he was a very spontaneous young boy. In our family full of white, he was the colorful spot. He was so full of life and ideas. But my family didn’t like that; my parents didn’t seem to like the only source of creativity in this dull family. They hated how free my younger brother wanted to be… Now that I think about it, I could have done something, I could have said something. But I was too young to understand this.

When we were a little older, I almost didn’t notice when my parents stopped complaining about his way of being. I thought they got used to him being like that, or that they gave up trying to change him. But that wasn’t the case, and my girlfriend was the one to point it out, not even me.

“He’s so quiet now, don’t you think?” She had asked when we were out on a date.

“Maybe he isn’t in the mood of talking honey.” She was upset with me after that, I’m glad she was; I was too blind to notice it, too. I thought he was just being quiet, how stupid of me, now that I’m older I know it wasn’t just that.

Days went by, and he talked less and less, until he stopped whatsoever. He only talked when it was necessary, and now that I think about it, it was never necessary because nothing my parents talked about interested him.

Our parents were happy though, he was finally being a calmed teenager worth of being called one of the family. He was finally being a dull person just like the rest of us, and that made them proud.

But I wasn’t. Males in my family are known for their handsome smiles, I being one of them and my younger brother’s smile was yet the best one amongst all of us—but he stopped smiling. I once told him something about it; I asked why he was always upset. I didn’t mean to anger him, that’s the least I wanted to do, but I guess I did.

“I’m not always upset, hyung. Just being in the house with the family upsets me.” He had said.

“But why?” He laughed at me when I asked this.

“Oh, I wonder why.” At that time, the tone he used with me angered me, I thought he was being a disrespectful brat. But now that I’m older, I understand his sarcasm.

Things weren’t the same since that day. I think I got used to the always-angry brother I had, that I forgot he had emotions. It’s just that he never showed them at home, I thought he lost them. My parents didn’t think that, of course, they thought he was being the politest boy in our family.