Our Own Fantasy

ORV: It's Not Your Fault (Part 1)

"[Name], you... you... It is not true, right? You are not—"

Her face contorted into despair when you turned away and refused to answer her.

"Why? Why? Please, not you too. Don't do this to me. I can't lose any of you!"

She grabbed your uniform and shook your body while crying. The officers were trying to pry her off of you.

"[Name], talk to me, my child. I am your mother, please. Won't you tell me if you are in trouble? Hm?"

You swallowed the lump in your throat.

"What are you doing here, mother?"

You grabbed her hands on your uniform, seeing her frozen while looking at you. The uneasy feeling crept up your chest.

"Your brother."

The mention of your brother was making your heart quicken.

"What happened to Dokja?"

You turned your head around, looking at the bed where your mother had been just now to finally see a small silhouette of a boy. Your breath hitched when looking at his bandaged head and arms.

"Dokja?"

"He... He jumped from the school building."

All the colors on your face drained, leaving it to turn pale. The sudden movement you made alerted the officers, but you stopped after you reached Dokja on the bed.

"Hey, hey, baby, Dokja, wake up."

Your shaky hand touches his bruised face.

Is he being bullied? Is this... because of me?

"Baby, please. I am here now. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please open your eyes."

Your hand touched his chest to feel the moving, the beating of the heart. Making you fall down on your knees in an instant.

Your brother is alive. Dokja is alive.

Tears have been cascading down your face.

"Reporters always came at us to ask about you."

You couldn't raise your head.

"Dokja has kept quiet since then, but I know that he has not been treated well in school."

The sob escaped your lips.

"I don't know what to do. I have changed him into a different school, but it kept repeating."

You felt hard to breathe. It is your fault.

"He refused to talk. He didn't tell me anything. And then I got a call from the school about this."

"I'm sorry."

"Nothing is your fault, [Name]. You don't know this will happen."

"I'm sorry, mom. I'm so sorry."

Your body shook with each sob you let out.

Grabbing your brother's hand—the small, weak, and pale hand that you always held. You brought it to your lips.

"God, please. If it's not me, give him a reason to survive. Please give him ways to survive. I will try to survive too. So please, don't take my brother away."

You prayed hard. It is okay if it's you but not your brother.

"He is my whole world. He is my star, my salvation. Even if I can't be one for him, bring something or someone who can. Please, please."

You can't let the world take your brother. You will do anything, even surviving for a new day for your brother. Even sacrificing your whole being to make your brother happy.