ℓαвуяιηтнє

Farewell

Kun

[0]

◊ May 17th, 2020 ◊

The smell of the summer washed ashore from the grassy parklands.

Kun stood there beside him as he said his final farewells.

Frozen, he stopped to watch her leave. Having known him for eight years, he had never seemed so complete. As he watched her go, he had a smile on his face, a genuine smile. Kun hadn't seen such a genuine smile on his face for years. Kun knew that his youth had hardened his heart, shattering the naivety that he deserved. Yet maturity could not hide his fragility, just like his smile could not hide his cascading tears.

Kun put a hand on his best friend's shoulder. It was an end, an end to something that was wholly uncontaminated, pure, and fragile like an unstained piece of glass. It was bound to break. Yet, no one had been ready. The unpredictability of life is just a shadow, an abyss no one can't escape.

He turned his head towards Kun, the smile still lingering on his face. Kun couldn't smile back. It was so foreign, seeing a smile on his face and not being able to break a smile of his own. He wondered if that's what he had felt every time he looked at him. Kun thought that perhaps his happiness could radiate to him and spark a small light on his world, but he had forgotten that not everyone wished for light in the world. At least Kun didn't, at least Kun didn't, not that day.

"You know what?"

"What?"

"I think I'm going to be okay."

These words brought a smile to Kun's face. And this time, he didn't have to fake it.

The sun slowly melted into hues of fire hearths and tangerines like splashing beautiful paints onto the artist's work. Kun could tell from the direction of their busy silhouettes that all the birds were flying back to their homes. The night was returning. Stars would reappear and light up the pitch-black sky. Perhaps for one second, all of their dreams would come true, and they could all start back to the very beginning before they learned to make their greatest mistakes.

Kun followed him to sit by the tree. Taking out his diary, he wrote:

I have known him since he was five. We have been best friends from the start.

When he was a kid, his brother was always sick. He had always been his parents' favorite. He was bright, athletic, chatty, and the liveliest little boy. He knew exactly what to say to please his parents. At the age of seven, he was reading big books in both Korean and English. His parents were my parents' first friends in a foreign country. We had just moved from Korea to America. Our mums often forced us to attend tutoring classes and take similar courses. My mum would always say, 'look at James! You are both boys at the same age. Why does he always go home with an excellent grade?'

He blossomed on the attention, and it built his dignity. He was the smartest, fastest, most talented, and confident boy I knew.

Then, things began to change when his brother finally got discharged from the hospital.

If James had been smart, his brother was a pure genius. His parents only wanted him to live a healthy, mediocre, and average life. They didn't have any expectations for the sick boy. However, they quickly realized that they had undermined his potential. At the end of that year, his brother caught up at the most unbelievable speed, having been homeschooled for most of his life. He became the Year Five Dux, an award only for the top pupil, earning him a central position in the hall of honors. And by Year Six, his brother was both school captain and varsity football captain, becoming a living legend in school. His reputation was flawless: smart, athletic, and insanely kind. Everyone admired him and his capacity to share and help those who sought it. They say he was the most considerate boy that anyone had ever seen, holding a purity and optimism that did not belong in this world. And in the wake of his brother's excellence, James became forgotten by his parents.