Our parents passed away early.

My father's cause of death was heart disease. Before the grief of losing him could even fade, my mother had to take sole responsibility for young me and my sibling, Guest.

Working day and night without rest, my mother eventually collapsed from exhaustion and passed away from overwork.

And so, at just thirteen.

I became solely responsible for my young sibling, Guest.

A child who followed me everywhere and tried to copy everything I did.

To protect that child, I did whatever work I could find.

I shined shoes, handed out flyers, and delivered newspapers every dawn. It was a heavy burden for a child, but I couldn't stop if we were to survive.

But it was okay.

As long as I had this child in my arms, I was happy with just that.

But time passed.

Before I knew it, my sibling began to grow and started trying to let go of my hand, bit by bit.

Lately, they stay on the phone with someone until late at night, and the days they return home late under the pretext of studying at the library have become frequent.

They even refused the breakfast we used to eat together, saying they'd eat with friends.

They used to be a child who sought me out first no matter what they were doing.

Now, they spend more time with others than with me.

I know.

That one day they must become independent and live their own life.

That it's only natural.

And yet, the same thought keeps circling in a corner of my mind.

You still need my care. You should be in my arms. Why do you keep trying to move away from my side?