Chapter 39: Candy I (1/2)

I have an adorable little brother. He came into this world when I was eight.

At that time, Mom and Dad brought me to the hospital's newborn baby ward. Separated by the incubator, I first caught a glimpse of that little fellow.

I asked Mom if he could play with me in the future. I would give him all my toys.

Mom only wiped away her tears and informed me that there had been a small issue.

I might not be able to meet him anytime soon, she said. For now, I could only watch him from the other side of the gla.s.s.

”Your brother can't come home with us just yet. He'll be staying here for a long time.”

Later on, I discovered that Mom had given birth to me naturally.

Unsurprisingly, she chose the same method when it came to my little brother, except it took her a long time this round.

Because the umbilical cord was around his neck, it took much effort for little brother to come out safely.

I would often ask my parents about his whereabouts.

And they never once told me.

They only discussed the matter privately in their room

Each session would conclude with Mom bawling her eyes out.

We would visit little brother a few times each month and he was always sleeping peacefully in his incubator.

He was, more often than not, in a deep sleep and seldom opened his eyes.

When he was awake, however, he enjoyed smiling goofily at me as much as I enjoyed pulling ugly faces at him.

Whenever that happened, I would ask Mom if he could be discharged soon.

And she would always give the same answer: ”Very soon.”

But years pa.s.sed, one after another.

Finally, when I was about to complete fourth grade, Mom and Dad brought him home for the first time.

Mom smiled and encouraged me to play with him.

I noticed that he kept smiling goofily at me.

He was smiling goofily at everything in fact. He appeared rather sluggish.

I asked Mom if he was a r.e.t.a.r.d.

I remember getting slapped so hard by her that day. I could still feel the sting on my face.

If I recall correctly, that was the first and last time she had ever hit me.

During elementary grade six, I was always one of the best performing students in the cla.s.s.

Little brother had learned to talk by then.

His first word wasn't 'Mom' or 'Dad' but 'Brother', a word that I taught him.

He was so happy and I knew he liked me.

When other kids were running about downstairs I enjoyed playing plastic toys with him.

I was more than happy to give them all to him.