invidia - bbh

set

"Sis! Did you know what we did with Mister byun today!?" Sayu exclaimed brightly, her apple-red cheeks glowed under the lights of your apartment while her lips were eager to tell you about her day. Mister Byun this, Mister Byun that. It had been going on for several days now...And although it relieved you to see your little sister happy, the name that kept rolling off her tongue was about to make a vein burst on your forehead. What was so special about this new teacher of hers? It was probably some fat, retired old man that her preschool had hired out of desperation.

Now, now, maybe you exaggerated a little bit. You were just frustrated at the moment. Like you'd be every late afternoon after all. The screen of your laptop would be reflecting dully in your orbs as you went over the lines of your essay again and again. It sucked. It was boring, dull, and just- everything was wrong with it. Somehow, it all felt like a stupid, cruel joke. The way that your face would reflect on the screen, making you feel as useless as the few words in the document. The keyboard was laughing at you while you recalled the smile of your friend when she let you take a look at her essay in case it could've been of help. It was, it had been incredibly helpful, and yet you couldn't bring yourself to write a single word. Because you were too occupied thinking that if you just had been as prepared as her- as skilled in writing, then maybe just maybe...You wouldn't be so pathetic. Why could it never be you? Why was it always someone close to you that had to have it all? Was it because God wanted to rub your uselessness in the face?

That was probably it, wasn't it?

Well, it damn burned, so he succeeded for sure.

It was a routine. Wake up, get Sayu ready, accompany her to school, and then get yourself to University, head home, start studying, feel like shit. You were trying really hard to write that damn forty-four pages long essay about two books that you had read during class. But the inspiration was nowhere near your presence recently.

"Hmm? What did you do with Mr. Byun?" You asked while not paying attention to her jumping figure on the other side of the coffee table. A pout crossed her lips, "You don't really care, do you?" Sayu crossed her short arms over her chest and scrunched her brows into a frown, trying to imitate your intimidating self, but the outcome was obviously nothing but adorable.

"That's not true, come on, just tell me!" You insisted, still not taking your eyes away from the screen. You had recently gotten into a flow as you wrote the differences between the two books, you couldn't just stop your fingers from moving across the keyboard. You were genuine when you told Sayu to continue her story, by now so used to multi-tasking that you almost forgot how much it meant for children to have eye and skin contact with the person they were talking to, especially if it was their own sister.

The little girl plopped on her butt dejectedly, an obvious sigh heaving from her chest. Her head hung low as she fidgeted with her tiny, soft fingers. "Sis, you never play or talk to me these days." Sayu started in a weak voice, looking at you from the corner of her eye, only to be disappointed when you still weren't looking at her. "Mr. Byun always plays and listens to Sayu." She continued slightly louder, although still a little hesitant, knowing that what she was going to say next was probably going to provoke you.

"Why don't you give me away to Mr. Byun? You don't-"

"Sayu!" Your harsh voice cut her off in the middle of her sentence, your fingers frozen over the keyboard as you sent your little sister an icy glare. If only she knew that you were not having fun and that you would much rather be with her than to sit in front of this cursed laptop. "Do you even hear yourself?!" You couldn't help yourself when you raised your voice at her, an impending rage setting you on fire. "Why would you say something like that?!" You yelled, only to regret it when you saw her wide, shocked eyes well up with tears. The little girl abruptly stood up, her tiny hands balled into fists as she with all her might tried to swallow the lump in her throat. Her small figure was trembling and you wanted to close the computer and crawl to her side to tell her that you didn't mean to yell at her. But all you could ever say was the opposite of what you were feeling. You detested it, your incapability to let go of your pride even in front of a 7-year-old. Look where it got you.