goodbye, saeran

saeyoung didn't want to lose his little brother, but the inevitable was certainly starting to stare him dead in the eye; for each passing day saeran grew weaker and weaker.  the color of his flesh had shifted dramatically over the past month from a once healthy pink glow, to a grey-green shade. his skin started to stretch hauntingly over his still-developing, prepubescent body. his bones seemed to jut underneath the layers of flesh, skin, and barely any fat. they stuck jaggedly from here and there, making him look nearly skeletal.

saeran's eyes were the worst, for they were dim and still, with little life left in them. he was always looking to saeyoung with this blank, empty stare.  it nauseated saeyoung, to see how weak his little brother had become, seeing innocent saeran, who didn't deserve any of this treatment, knocking on death's door.  he seemed so fragile— he needed sustenance, a loving home, a pediatrician, but saeyoung could only give him so much; which was next to nothing. knowing this, sometimes a small glance at his twin would make saeyoung's chest tighten. it felt like his heart would burst. he couldn't do anything, no matter how hard he tried.

but he couldn't give up hope. no, he stubbornly clung to his little brother who tethered him down, always promising that he would improve, always telling him to fight, and that one day the two of them would escape and finally be as happy as they had always dreamed.

foolishly, desperately, saeyoung believed his own words like a blindman seeking sight. clinging to this feeble hope that one day god would answer their prayers and send them to a paradise of their own. there, they would have freedom, friends, and all the food they've ever wanted.  filling their bellies and laughing while playing together in open fields made up of flowers and sky.

he had to believe there was a silver lining to this hellish life or he would go crazy.

saeyoung often found himself quivering with rage, wondering how their mother could possibly do this to her child. he would've taken saeran's place in a heartbeat— yet, that was impossible. instead, he obeyed mother choi (the last time he rebelled, she took out her anger on both him and saeran, which saeyoung couldn't afford when his brother was so sickly) and spent every possible moment of his time caring for his twin, the only thing in his life that he found dear.

so there saeyoung was, sitting beside his brother— he took hold of the small, limp, boney hand; hiding the growing frown on his face as he chattered on about happier times. 

"when you get better."  he began. "I promise to take you to see the flowers— they're almost in bloom." he smiled tenderly down at saeran, wondering if the leaden boy could even hear him. saeyoung couldn't really tell when saeran was awake or asleep any more, but proceeded with their quality time as if this wasn't an issue. he let out a shaky breath as silence filled the room again. the only sounds were their mother's snores, once again passed out in a drunken haze the next room over, and saeran's quick, short breaths that were hardly audibly detectable—

yet, that breathing was the only motivation saeyoung had left to keep going. he had nothing else to live for except for saeran. with that thought, saeyoung blinked away his tears, and continued to keep watch over his poor little brother throughout the night.