24

Since starting middle school, I have been following my father's instructions and spending every day solely focused on studying. Even when Mai tried to talk to me, I would cut the conversation short to avoid getting too close. Studying wasn't exactly painful. Of course, having repeated these things over and over, my grades improved. But even with this artificial boost, this is as far as I've come. Knowing my limits is the most painful part.

I sometimes wonder if there's any point in trying so hard when I'm destined to be abandoned in the end. Yet, here I am, still trying. No, that's not right. It's because I have no choice but to keep trying. There's nothing I'm good at, so the least I can do is not be a burden to my sister or anyone else. If everything I do ends in failure, at the very least, I want to be of some use to someone. Surely that's not too much to ask.

As soon as school ends today, I leave the classroom. Have I spoken to any of my classmates recently? I barely even talk to my parents anymore. Those days seem so distant now. They were like a dream... no, they were a dream. I'll just convince myself of that.

As I walk home, I notice something unusual. There's a crowd of people around my house, and a police car is parked nearby. Curious and a little worried, I approach and realize that the center of attention is indeed my house, cordoned off by yellow tape. Maybe there was a break-in. I approached a nearby police officer and asked, "I live here. What happened?" The officer gave me a sympathetic look before confirming my identity and escorting me into the house. Inside, I saw my sister, who usually comes home later than I do, being questioned by the police.

I went upstairs to drop off my things. The room didn't seem ransacked, so maybe it wasn't a burglary. If it were, they'd probably target my father's study first. I went back downstairs to talk to my sister.

"Sis, do you know what happened? The police wouldn't tell me."

"Kaya. First, welcome home... Yes, let's talk upstairs."

With that, my sister excused herself from the nearby police officers and led me upstairs. When we entered her room, everything looked just as it usually did.

"So, what happened?"

"Stay calm. ...Father and Mother are dead."

My sister said it so calmly that I couldn't process the information.

"What? Wh-what do you mean?"

"What I said. They weren't murdered; they committed suicide. It won't take long, but we'll need to be questioned by the police, so you should prepare."

She explained everything so matter-of-factly. How could she be so calm? Our parents were dead, weren't they? I wanted to say something, but no words came out. My sister's composure made it hard to believe any of this was real.

In a daze, time passed. After answering some trivial questions, my sister and I were taken in a police car to the hospital. We were led through the hospital and eventually arrived at the morgue. There, two bodies were laid out. A doctor pulled back the sheets covering their faces, revealing our father and mother.

Afterward, we were taken to the police station, where I was asked about my parents' behavior, whether they had shown any signs of wanting to die, and other questions. I had no idea they were planning something like this.

Once the questioning was over, the police explained the circumstances surrounding their deaths. The cause was carbon monoxide poisoning. They had sealed off the living room with tape and used charcoal briquettes to commit suicide. However, the autopsy revealed they had taken sleeping pills first, so at least their suffering was minimal.

Why did it have to come to this? As I waited for my sister to finish her questioning, that thought kept running through my mind. Nothing like this had ever happened before. After she was released, we were driven back home. It was already dark outside. Once I was back in my room, exhaustion took over, and I quickly fell asleep.