Between Life

Chapter 5: Unshed Tears - A Journey Through Unforgiving Words and Silent Sorrows

My elder sister, profoundly shattered by the recent loss of our mother, and the haunting proximity of our father's departure not long ago. During our mother's funeral, my sister wept incessantly, with episodes of fainting.

She resisted nourishment and only sought solace in sips of water. Meanwhile, I could only offer support, reassuring her that she was not alone as I, and other family members, were still there for her. That day marked our official transition into orphans, children who lost their parents—parents still existing for others but forever gone for us. The chance of a reunion is now lost forever.

After becoming orphans, my sister and I, initially distant, gradually grew closer over time. We started sharing more and spending more time together. Despite her busy schedule, my sister began staying home more often, choosing to spend time with me. With the passing of our mother, it left just the two of us. Every person I encountered had a similar message for me: to try my best to control my emotions, especially around my sister, who had already endured so much. I made an effort to suppress any anger and remained silent when confronted.

Once again, I was told to endure, but how long could I endure it all? Once again, my existence as a child seemed to be overlooked. I tried to accept it all. People often conveyed the same message to me, assuming I was a resilient, strong child. I was never that strong. Never...

One of the extended family members on my mother's side took me aside for a conversation while my sister engaged with other relatives. It was my grandmother, my mother's mother, who spoke softly and delicately, revealing that my mother had entered into a clandestine marriage.

Yes, with the man I mentioned before.

A secret marriage that had lasted for several months, as per my grandmother. My heart raced, and anger surged within me. How could my mother do such a thing? On what grounds? Love? Then, did the existence of her own child no longer matter to her? Was she tired of her life after all? I remained silent.

Trying to process each word uttered and the new facts unveiled after my mother's passing. My grandmother explained that my mother opted for a secret marriage because she was deeply in love with that man but was too afraid to admit the truth to us, her children. She feared my sister's furious reaction... I waited, waited for any acknowledgment from my mother, perhaps an expression of regret towards me or any words that would indicate some concern for my feelings. But none came.

It turned out that, in my mother's eyes, she had only one child – my sister. Once again, I swallowed the bitter truth I had just heard. Now, I pondered how I would convey this information to my sister without triggering her anger. My life had already been in disarray after losing my father and spiraled further after my mother's departure, and now this?

When i'm alone with my sister, we exchanged the usual pleasantries, and I, as usual, injected some humor into our conversation to keep it from getting too serious. After what felt like a considerable amount of small talk, I finally broached the subject of what our grandmother had shared with me.

My sister fell silent, displaying no particular expression, yet her eyes... was it sadness? Or anger? It seemed like a blend of emotions.

My sister was undoubtedly shocked by this revelation; our lives resembled a soap opera, if not more dramatic. However, after disclosing the latest revelation about our mother, my sister simply advised me to accept it. After all, our mother was no more, and perhaps it was destined by God that she would be with that man before taking her last breath. I looked at her in surprise; she was so resigned and accepting.

Was it that easy for her? Meanwhile, I tried to come to terms with it, but the anger within me refused to subside. Too much pain I endured because of our mother; I was even worse off than before, all because of her. I blamed everything on our mother – why did she have to die and leave behind so much bitterness? I didn't even receive a single apology for what I went through. I kept thinking about my father; I kept missing him. I longed to be with him.

I hated my life.

I found myself unable to accept my mother's departure, not because I missed her, but because I was consumed by anger towards her. The anger felt overwhelming, as if it couldn't be contained within me any longer.

But what could I do?

The only option was to try to remain silent and accept it, much like my sister did. I aimed to be a supportive sibling, one who wouldn't burden my sister. Every time she got angry with me, I chose to stay silent.

I attempted to survive because I still had my sister, but not long after our mother's death, my sister announced her intention to get married. She had been in a relationship for several years, and for some reason, when my sister shared this news, I felt an unwillingness to accept it.

I feared that if my sister married, I would be left alone; she would have a new family and forget about me. Unbeknownst to me, I became excessively possessive of what I had. I became overly protective of my surroundings.

However, what could I do? I could only say 'yes' to her. Just one year after our mother's departure, my sister married her long-time partner. The dynamics changed instantly. Although we were once close, now that my sister had her own family, everything was different. It was ironic because when our parents were still around, we were often compared to a cat and a dog due to our constant arguments.

When my sister got married, once again, I had to force myself. I don't know why I found it challenging to bond with her husband, especially with his family. Despite my efforts, it just didn't click. I couldn't pinpoint the reason why it was so difficult for me to connect with him. I felt exhausted from trying so hard, but I decided to let things flow like water.

The dynamics shifted, and understandably, my sister began prioritizing her husband over me. However, it wasn't her fault. I stopped blaming my sister after our mother's departure; in fact, I cherished her even more. But there was a moment when I felt a profound disappointment with my sister.

I experienced intense stomach pain that made it hard to breathe, and I was alone at home. I called my sister hoping for help. It was raining, and she was busy, so her husband went to buy medicine for me. I was genuinely grateful. However, after he returned with the medicine, my sister called again and blamed me with an eerily tone similar to the times our mother used to blame me. She said it was all for me, her husband got drenched, and what if he fell sick? It was my fault. I fell silent, and I couldn't help but feel like I was destined to be in situations like this over and over again.

I found myself crying once again, blaming myself. It seemed like my mother's words about me were true – maybe I shouldn't have existed in this world. But, for some reason, I couldn't bring myself to hate my sister. After that incident, I still cared deeply for her, and I forced myself to forget what had happened. I pushed my mind to erase all the painful memories, although it never worked. I compelled myself to mature, to become more independent. I even promised that if I ever found myself in such a sickening situation again, it would be better to endure it silently. Perhaps it was fate that I should have departed in such a way?

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Hello dear readers!^^ 

How's everyone doing? I hope you're all doing well and that luck and good fortune are always on your side. I'm curious to hear your thoughts on this story. Have you enjoyed the previous chapters I've published? Feel free to share your critiques and suggestions; they're incredibly helpful for my improvement, hehe.

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Best regards,The Author