Yun

youngest among many siblings, he was a happy and admittedly spoiled little kid when he was young. he lived a great life. it felt like he had 5 doting parents, due to his oldest siblings being far older than him. they took care of him when his mother was away, which was most of the time. the rest of them all were closer to his age, and they played with him a lot. being youngest, they often went easy on him and sometimes let him win on purpose. he'd then whine that they were being soft on him and he'd cry that he was a big boy, and they'd play a little rougher, but not enough to make him lose immediately. he had kind siblings who he adored, but that was not enough.

his family was big, and his mother had a really hard raising a dozen and more kids. she was stressed and exhausted and often wound up in bars after long, almost endless days where she cried in strangers' shoulders who only charmed her to bed. there was always that fear after, and sometimes when that fear came true, there was always to ask -- to kill or not to kill? she did it once, and the sight of the remains was so traumatic that she could not bring herself to do it again. she'd weep and curse the children and cry to them for not being a good parent. her mental health was in shambles.

yun, who didn't know much at all about anything, would sometimes wake up from his sleep to see his brothers and sisters crowding around the door frame, peeking at their mother lying in front of the fire, sobbing. he'd ask them what was going on, and they'd all look at him with the look of what looked like pity and what if. but why the look of what if? there were no what if's to be seen in him. he was just a child, after all. he'd think nothing of it and laugh at his siblings that they were being weird before slipping on his glasses and joining the group.

they'd look at the firelight reflecting off of their beautiful mother's face and the tears falling to the floor. the pure look of heartbreak and fear on her face never failed to make yun cry and his siblings to shush him, and for his mother to notice them all. she'd put on a sad smile and get up, rounding them all off into their room and back on the comfy piles of pillows and blankets they used to sleep on. yun would always be last, and he'd cling onto his mother. "we can't go to sleep if you're sad, mama," he'd say, and his mother would wipe away her tears and grin at him. "now, I can't be happy if all of you little critters don't go to bed now, can I?" she'd pat his little head and kiss his forehead. she'd wave at him goodnight from the door as he stared at her with teary eyes. she'd shut the door and he'd stare as he heard a slump. he'd still be awake when his mother continued crying in front of the fireplace. he knew everyone was still awake, but he didn't ever know what to do.

in the mornings after these nights, his mother would be out the door and his siblings would be making him breakfast. it was often simple pancakes, sometimes with some chocolate mixed in. it was only on these days they'd make pancakes, and he'd come to cherish them more because of this. he'd be stuffing himself while asking them all about mama. don't talk with your mouth full, yun. of course mama's fine! mama is very strong, don't worry about her. you have syrup on your face, yun! carefree mornings despite the dark nights. he often forgot about all his worries as he sat around the table, laughing with his siblings, stealing bites of their pancakes too.

sometimes, the pancakes weren't really enough to make him happier and to make him forget. it was during one of these mornings that he wondered -- what can I do for mama? he had no skill in art, and drawing all of his siblings in a family portrait would be a pain. plus, he could never draw mama good enough. if I can't draw, I can act, he thought. after trying that with some of his siblings, he soon learned that his talent for the arts seemed non-existent. singing? no, he didn't have the voice. playing an instrument? he had no way of getting one, and learning it would be a hassle anyway. read something to his mother? no way, how would that work? then something clicked into place in his head. he could write something!

he could write something. but write... what? how happy everyone was? how much they loved their mother? how mama doesn't have to worry about them? it didn't matter. he took a crumpled sheet of paper from his mama's work table, and he wrote everything he wanted to say. he passed it around to his siblings and they each wrote something too. he folded up the paper and he put it in front of the fireplace, writing From Yun and Everyone on the front of the paper. he was giddy with excitement.

that night, he couldn't really sleep at all. while all his siblings piled together and slept, he lied awake. he heard the creak of a door and soft footsteps. they were weary footsteps, but soft indeed they were. following the footsteps was the familiar slump yun had heard all the time. there were no tears, but bloodshot eyes and dark circles were indeed present. still, you could not imagine how he felt when his mother saw the small folded piece of paper on the floor. he was excitement and the giddiness of a child opening their gift at christmas. his eyes were filled with light and his heart was pounding at his mother's reaction.