BREAKFAST

SKY'S POV

I woke up groggily on the sofa, my pillow clutched tightly to my chest. The faint morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow in the room. As I reached for my buzzing phone, I realized it was my sister, Hilda, calling.

"Hey," her voice was gentle, filled with concern. "I hope you're okay. I was worried about you last night."

I rubbed my eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. "Yeah, I'm fine," I mumbled, my voice still thick with sleep. "Just tired, I guess."

Hilda sat down next to me, her eyes searching my face. "Are you sure everything's okay, Sky? You can talk to me, you know."

I forced a smile, trying to reassure her. "Yeah, I'm sure. I was just feeling a bit emotional last night. You leaving today and all."

Hilda nodded, her expression somber. "I know, Sky. It's hard for me too, you know. But we have to be strong for each other."

I swallowed the lump forming in my throat, blinking back tears. I wanted to tell Hilda how much I missed our mother, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. She was trying so hard to be strong for me, and I didn't want to burden her with my own grief.

To lighten the mood, Hilda nudged me playfully. "Or were you thinking about your man all night, huh?"

I rolled my eyes, playfully shoving her away. "For Christ's sake, Hilda, leave me alone. We're just friends, okay? Mystery friends."

Hilda's expression turned serious, her eyes welling up with tears. "Sky, I'm leaving today. I'm going to miss you so much, brother. I love you." And with that, she broke down, burying her face in my chest.

I felt my own tears threatening to spill over as I hugged her tightly. "I'm going to miss you too, Hilda," I whispered, my voice choked with emotion. "I love you."

We sat like that for a while, wrapped in each other's arms, until Hilda finally pulled away, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "Come on, Sky," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "Let's eat. I'm starving."

I nodded, grateful for the change of subject. We made our way to the kitchen, Hilda chattering away about our dad as she prepared breakfast.

"Sky, don't be so harsh on yourself," she said gently, stirring a pot on the stove. "He's our dad, after all. We have to forgive him."

As I poured out my heart to my sister, Hilda, the weight of my words seemed to hang heavy in the air, each syllable laden with pain and bitterness. "No, Hilda, I'll never forgive him," I declared, my voice trembling with emotion. The mere thought of our father's cruel words about our late mother sent a shiver down my spine. How could he have been so callous, so heartless, to tarnish her memory in such a way?

"He called our late mum promiscuous," I continued, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. "She has hit you and also hit me so bad," I confessed, the memories of our tumultuous childhood flashing before my eyes like a series of painful snapshots. "He has hurt me beyond repair."

Hilda listened in silence, her expression a mixture of sadness and understanding. She had borne the brunt of our father's wrath just as much as I had, perhaps even more so. But despite the pain we had endured, she remained a pillar of strength, her unwavering love and support a source of comfort in the storm.

"He has never been a father to us," I whispered, my voice breaking with emotion. "Someone I could run to, someone I could confide in." Tears welled up in my eyes as I spoke, the weight of years of unspoken pain and resentment finally spilling over.

Hilda reached out to me, her touch gentle and reassuring. "Hush, dear," she said softly, her voice a soothing balm to my wounded soul. "It's okay. We'll get through this together."

Despite the heaviness of our conversation, Hilda was always able to find a way to lighten the mood. "You know," she said with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, "you could make a good wife someday." I couldn't help but smile at her playful teasing, the tension in the room dissipating as we shared a moment of levity.

But soon, the weight of reality came crashing back down upon us, reminding us of the harsh truths we couldn't escape. Together, we retreated to the kitchen, seeking solace in the familiar routine of preparing breakfast together. Hilda chopped vegetables with practiced ease while I cracked eggs into a bowl, the rhythmic clinking of utensils a comforting melody in the silence.

As the tantalizing aroma of frying bacon filled the air, we set the table together, the simple act of cooperation a testament to the bond that held us together. Bowing our heads in prayer, we gave thanks for the food before us and for the strength to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

But as I looked across the table at my sister, a single tear escaped my eye, the weight of impending separation pressing down upon me like a leaden weight. "She's leaving today," I whispered, the words heavy with sorrow and regret. The thought of being separated from my sister, my confidante, my closest friend, was almost too much to bear.

HILDA'S POV

I knew my brother had been holding onto something heavy, something that weighed down his spirit like an anchor in stormy waters. It was in the way his eyes avoided mine, the way his laughter seemed forced, and the weary slump of his shoulders when he thought no one was looking.

The first time I caught a glimpse of his struggle was when I found him on the sofa, his usually stoic demeanor shattered by the weight of his emotions. I could hear the faint echoes of his stifled sobs, a testament to the battles he fought in the solitude of the night.

Sitting beside him, I felt a surge of empathy wash over me. I wanted to reach out, to offer solace in any way I could. So, I began to speak, hoping my words would serve as a lifeline amidst the turbulent sea of his thoughts. I shared stories of our father, a man whose actions left scars deeper than any physical wound. I knew Sky harbored resentment towards him, and rightfully so. Our father was a flawed man, one whose mistakes had torn our family apart.

As we sat there, sharing a meal that tasted more of bitterness than of nourishment, I saw a tear escape from the corner of Sky's' eye. It was a silent cry for help, a plea buried beneath layers of pride and pain. In that moment, I wanted to wrap him in a cocoon of love, to shield him from the harsh realities of life. But I knew that resilience was forged in the crucible of adversity, and Sky was stronger than he realized.

"Hey, hush bro," I said softly, reaching out to wipe away his tears. "I'll still be here, just a few miles away. I'm not going anywhere."

His laughter, though tinged with sadness, echoed through the room like a beacon of hope amidst the darkness. "You're right," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not dying, am I?"

I smiled, a bittersweet reminder of the bond we shared. "No, you're not," I replied, standing up from the sofa. "Now, let me go pack and give this lady a ride to school."

With that, I left him, his laughter ringing in my ears like a promise of brighter days ahead. As I walked to my room, I couldn't help but marvel at the resilience of the human spirit. Despite the storms that raged within us, we still found moments of laughter, of connection, and of hope. And in those moments, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would weather them together, as brothers bound by blood and by love.

SKY'S POV

As Hilda, entered her room, the echoes of our earlier laughter dissipated, replaced by the weight of my worries. The fear of being left alone crept into my thoughts, threatening to engulf me in a familiar darkness. But before I could drown in self-doubt, Hilda's voice cut through the silence like a ray of light.

"Sky, where is my bra? I can't see it," she exclaimed, her tone both exasperated and amused. I couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of her question. "Do I look like a bra man to you?" I replied, a grin spreading across my face as I teased her.

Hurrying to the bathroom to escape further inquiries, I quickly dressed in my usual attire: a comfortable t-shirt adorned with a quirky graphic and a pair of well-worn jeans. It was a look that had become my trademark, a reflection of my laid-back personality and disdain for unnecessary extravagance.

Moments later, Hilda emerged from her room, transformed into a vision of elegance and style. With each step, she exuded a confidence that I admired, though it couldn't be further from my own demeanor.

"Ready to go?" she asked, her excitement palpable. Without waiting for a response, she grabbed her keys and headed towards the door, her energy contagious.

I followed suit, chuckling at her enthusiasm as we made our way to the car. As we drove through the streets of Lumina Vista City, I couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of our surroundings. The cityscape stretched out before us, a mesmerizing blend of towering skyscrapers and bustling streets, each corner teeming with life and possibility.

Before long, we arrived at the gates of Lumina University, where Hilda would begin her day of classes. As she kissed my forehead and bid me farewell, I felt a pang of sadness at the thought of her leaving. But I quickly pushed aside those feelings, knowing that she was embarking on an exciting journey of her own.

With a final embrace, Hilda disappeared into the university, leaving me alone in the car. As I watched her go, a sense of emptiness settled over me, a reminder of the void that would soon fill our once lively apartment.

With a heavy sigh, I started the car and drove off, the solitude of the road mirroring the emptiness I felt inside.