Eyvonne has left for the Other Side.

This singular thought made Ernie's insides squirm with happiness. He'd never imagined a day like this would come. He always thought Eyvonne would be a continuous, neverending hindrance to his life, an obstacle meant only to push him back when he'd just started moving forward.

But, now that the wall blocking Ernie's path to glory has vanished, Ernie can finally enjoy that sweet, sweet nectar called a normal life. After all, he'd been compared to his sister over and over and over to the point where he was driven insane by it. Thoughts of unfairness riled up in his heart and mind, slowly but surely gnawing away at his sense of righteousness.

Words that wouldn't stop ridiculing him for being a failure would finally cease; the everyday unease that he'd have to face whenever he wakes up will finally be but a distant memory. Today, starting from this very moment after the gleaming white portal closes, Ernie's life will finally begin to change for the better.

—Or so that was what he believed.

Ernie knows that life isn't fair. Nothing is, per se. However, his experiences with an inferiority complex only strengthened his understanding of it. His vision is so tainted with the hatred for his miserable life—and most likely his sister—that red herrings of uncertainty can easily be picked up by him, almost as if they were blearing sirens right beside his ears.

Even then, Ernie couldn't resist.

He couldn't resist this sweet fantasy, where his life would return to normal once his sister is gone, so unbelievably siphoned to perfection as if it was weaved just for him, and him alone. This illusive cage that he trapped himself in could only last so long, being so incredibly fragile that one single word might just make it all shatter.

And so it did.

Like a pane of glass being punched and crashing into thousands of little pieces, the fantastical world that he created for himself collapsed in on itself. It only lasted a day or so, but even that was impressive for the imaginary world of an eight-year-old. That obliteration came like a bulldozer, so mercilessly destroying his desires in a single smash.

"Come to think of it, where is that girl Eyvonne?"

Those words spoken by a visiting family friend that Ernie couldn't care less about—it brought him back to this sad, cold reality. A reality that will always instill fear in his heart. If his resolve was a burning fire of passion, then the counter would be an equally—no, an even more ferocious fire, tainted in black, which threatens to engulf the whole of Ernie's sanity. That feeling, that vivid, familar feeling that Ernie would always feel—it was called hatred.

There's not any other word that Ernie despises more than his own sister's name. The combination of those few letters, pronounced in a specific way—that exact name, Eyvonne—corrodes Ernie's will as if it was nothing at all. A word where the moment he even catches a glimpse of, his mind would shatter.

Upon that resolve shattering, the negativity would spill out in a mad rush. There was nothing he could do—these pent-up feelings would've all come out eventually, so why not do it now than never?

All kinds of thoughts appeared in his mind. Why is that swine mentioning that damned person? Isn't she gone? Why is she so freakishly important to them that they have to talk about her every time they show their stinking faces? Do they think she's their child? Do they idolize her so badly they want to see her every second? Is she some sort of God that they worship? What's so interesting about her? Why are they so attached to her? Have they gone nuts? Are they crazy? What's up with that?

In an ironic twist of events, Ernie's mind has gone mad. His absolute hatred for his sister consumed his mind and body whole, and it slowly seeped out into his actions. His eyes were blanketed in a cold glare, his brows were furrowed uneasily, his whole face was scrunched up in ruin, his hands were balled hard in fists—maybe he wants to punch them?

Amidst his rage, Ernie's parents noticed their son getting a bit twitchy. Their visitor, who was amiably talking about Eyvonne, didn't notice Ernie's sharp glare. To think they're that immersed in talking about a person so distantly related to them. Could Ernie's maddened thoughts actually be justified?

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

...At any rate, if Alice and Hans don't spring into action any time soon, Ernie might actually punch their friend. That's the last thing they want after having lost their prodigy daughter to the unknown. They hadn't realized it then, but their actions were carried out solely to protect their own pride, which they have lost in an inevitable turn of events.

—Which, in hindsight, was a fatal mistake.

"Ernie, are you feeling alright? Surely you aren't getting fidgety over your sister right now?" said Hans, in an overly stern tone.

Ernie, in contrast, was borderline driven to insanity. He turned to look at his father who had addressed him and glared all the more harder.

"Fidgety? Sure, maybe you can call it that. But over my sister? Well, that I'll have to ask you something first."

In a voice so filled with animosity, Ernie spoke his mind without any filters to sift out the ill-intent in his words: "What do you think I'm feeling right about now?"

"What you're feeling?" Hans repeated, squinting his eyes in suspicion. "Is that any relevant to my question?"

"Just cut to the chase. Tell me, from the looks of my face, what you can see in me? What I feel about Eyvonne?"

"Well... are you not sad? Surely, having lost your own sister to some sort of magic portal, you should be feeling sad. Or maybe, are you still in shock? After all, it's hard to believe that Eyvonne crossed to another dimension, so you're thinking this is all a dream? Well, let me break it to you: it's not."

Having heard his father's words loud and clear, Ernie pretty much has the grasp of the whole situation. He had a hunch from the beginning, but what came out of his father's mouth confirms his premonition.

They're a bunch of idiots.

Ernie smiled sinisterly, all in spite of himself. He couldn't have imagined a response any worse than that. Thoughts ran wild in his mind:

Of course it's not a dream. Of course it's reality. What made you think I was in a fallout fantasy? All of it is painfully true. Do you not realize that I'm the one closest to reality here? That I'm the one that can sniff it out the fastest? Don't go hounding on me thinking I'm just a brainless brat living in his own world.

—Because I loathe Eyvonne more than anyone else.

I'm not sad that she's gone. I'm not the least bit bewildered, either. In fact, call me elated, euphoric, drunk in happiness—all the words that can describe my utter lust for my sister to disappear, and when that dream finally came true. That's what I'm feeling right now.

Or it was just a minute ago.

Now I'm just angry. I'm furious. This rage boiling inside me—it's all your fault. It's all of you people's fault. Stop focusing so much on Eyvonne. Stop it. It's so annoying. She's not a damn star, she's just my snotty sister. Get your prying hands off her life. Let her live, so that I can live. So that I don't have to suffer in your trash talk. So that I won't have to think such things anymore...

"Oh, you shouldn't get pulled into that little urchin's ploys, Hans. He's just being the brat he usually is, that's all. In fact, let me have a jab at his question. Hey, Ernie, do you want to know what I think? Well, to be blatantly honest, you're just jealous of your sister, aren't you? You're so jealous that, even after she's "gone" or whatever your parents just said, you're still trying to pull at her so you can have what little taste of the praise she gets, am I right? Hah, you're real pathetic, even after she's not here anymore."

Those words could never hit more close to home. Ernie is jealous of Eyvonne, and not even himself could deny that fact, no matter how much he wants to be detached from it. It's set in stone: the moment Ernie came to life, it was bound for a one-way ticket to hell. His past experiences could already solidify that fact.

Even then—

—so what? Yeah, I'm jealous of her, but what of it? I may not even hold a candle to her, but I'll chase after her no matter what. You got a problem with that? Well, hate to break it to you, but I don't care. I'll do what I want. And I'll do it so I can shove it in your face. How does that sound? To be wrong? It has a nice ring to it, eh?

Urged on by his thoughts, Ernie began to speak his retort.

"...You're not wrong. I am jealous. There's nothing I can disprove there."

"Hah, see? You admit it yourself. To think you'd be—"

The visitor was cut off.

"But there's a problem. Why do you care so much that I envy someone better than me? Isn't it normal to feel a bit of jealousy towards someone that can beat you with no sweat? So why? Why are you so insistent on me being some insensitive brat that wants attention all to myself? For an adult like you to go so low to the point of insulting a child—that's what's insensitive, don't you think so as well?

"So who is in the wrong now? Me, for working hard trying to catch up with someone better than me, or you, a lowlife scoundrel that would attack a child for entertainment's sake? The question's not even a question anymore, huh? So God forbid, stop twisting the situation like I'm some sort of scum preaching my sister like she's an irresistable ornament. You're the one reproaching her, not me.

"So shut your mouth. You have no right to talk about me. Lest you want to be reported for verbal abuse, I suggest you just shut your mouth and brood on your words a little bit. Think of what sort of scum you must be that you'd even talk down on a child. Talk about pathetic."

Then, with a final jab—

"—I hope you enjoyed being lectured by me, of all people. You finally got a taste of what I constantly feel."

With that, Ernie turned on his heels and briskly stomped his way up the stairs into his room, not even minding his bewildered parents and the speechless visitor, then shutting himself inside to cry on pathetically for, what one might call a milestone, the 100th time now.