Voice - 1

In my family, sometimes we would have members leaving temporarily; for instance, my father's business trip, my mom's holiday trip with her friends. I felt that its always more comfortable to have 4 members together, even the atmosphere would be lighter. When I have a school trip, my mother and sister could only feel an existence of empty air on places where I supposely belong. I think, when such happens, they must felt the emptiness as I do; even when the absence of a single member of the family for merely a few days. When that person return from their trip, our home would return to the state where we are used to; that house which barely fit 4 peoples, where I would trip over sis's feet whenever I pass in front of the television. That stuffy, yet easy home.

We have a light in front of our porchment. It is always on whoever of us goes out at night; an unwritten rule states that whoever came home last turns it off, until one day my mom said that she'll leave that light on until sis comes home and she will turn it off.

The porch lights still burns today, night and day. Just inside the front door, a strip of tape covers the switch.

My sister never came back.


Not long ago, we are a family of four. But now, my sister had leaved us eternally. Now, there's always an empty chair on our dining table.

Why my sister is killed? No one knows the answer, but 2 weeks ago, my sister Iva died. 12 hours later from she's last seen, she was found in an empty hospital premise.

I had never enter the ruin, but since my sister died. Once, only once I gazed the building afar. Besides a few strands of grass, nothing was there, a cold place; small chips of stone would rise with the wind over the gravy ground, shoes would be tainted greyish white. The hospital itself was a dimentional, square block of building, looks like the remaining shell of an unknown from its metamorphosis. All the glass panels of the windows are broken, it was pitch black inside. Not long ago, someone discovered my sister's body inside, thats why the entrance was sealed off by tapes, policemen would bend over the tapes to pass in and out the building.

I've heard that my sister was found by 3 primary school kids in the furthest room inside. Although nothing had been disclosed by the police, it is said to be an operating theater.

It is said that her body is damaged to a very large extend, it even rendered identification impossible. There's a handbag not far from her body, police managed to contact us from her belongings inside. It was mom who picked up the phone, a day after my sister went out at noon, she thought it was a prank.

However, it was my sister, even if it wasn't identified by my parents and my sister's boyfriend, but from what they found in the handbag, as well as cononer's report, sufficiently proves everything.

...The police never reveal the state of my sister's body, nor they reveal how she was killed. In our everyday life, cases where killing via knife wound or strangulation happens commonly. Even where knife wound and strangulation would be considered horrendous by most people and covered by the media. But my sister doesn't seemed to be killed as simple as a stab or strangle.

They opined that if my sister's sufferings were exposed, it would bring a negative image to the society, thats why they refuse to reveal anything. Even the 3 school boys refused to say anything.

My parents begged the police and doctors for letting them to see my sister's body, but they were refused, because my sister's body could never return it her original state, they couldn't manage to let them see the remains.

My mom and dad, aren't really selective to my sister, just like other common parent and child, they would argue over a minute television ad, scoldings for forgetting where the newspaper is; my parents never really praise her in front of others. But when I heard their cries and sobbings upon hearing my sister's death, it was only then I realised how much investment and effort that my parents spent in raising her.

"Please, let us see Iva!"

My father begged desperately for the doctors and police's approval. His face turned red, as though as he is in much anger. Looking at my father's uncompromised expression, they lead my father and mother to the room which my sister is placed.

I looked dully to their back, further away from the large rectangular swing door, watching them dissapear. I'm scared, I am so afraid that I couldn't manage myself to see my sister in that room.

I've heard conversation between an officer and a police, they must not have notice me on the corner.

"Gosh, it was so tedious piercing together the pieces and fragments..."

The policeman said. I almost fell on the ground upon hearing this, my shoes made a loud screech on the hospital floor. That police found me while turning his back, he seemed surprised, having an unnatural expression, he shut his lips tight.

Piercing my sister together... I stood motionless on the ground, pondering the meaning of what he had said.

Not long after, dad and mom came out from the room where my sister is kept. Immediately and anxiously, I asked them: What happened to my sister? They just acted as if they heard nothing, treated me in total disregard. My parents would cry and sob before entering the room before this; they stopped their tears after steping out the room. They wouldn't want to look into anyone's eyes, so they just lowered their head, remained in silence. It was as if dad and mom's emotion had left in the room; the radiance on their face is dull and unlively, just like two pieces of inanimate mask.

The police said nothing about my sister's body, everything is kept in confidential to the public. Maybe its because of this, not long after the body was found, people forgets about this incident.

Now, 2 weeks after my sister's death, police and the media wouldn't come to my house anymore.


My sister is older than me for 2 years, only 20 when she died. There are only two siblings in our family, it can be said that I grown up looking on my sister's face.

When I am still a fifth grader, sister already wearing a secondary school uniform, one which I had never seen before. When I am on my second year in secondary school, my sister would always tell me about high school which I knew nothing of. I would always see what I would received 2 years later in life from her; to me, my sister was a guiding flagship on dark, and unknown ocean.

Even though, she was older than me for two years, but our height are similar. Because of this, alot of people said that we looked remarkably resemble to each other. I remembered when I am in primary school, whenever we visit a relative in New Year, everyone would say so.

"I don't think so, there aren't such thing, isn't it?"

My sister said to me upon noticing my relative's expression. To us, we seen each other every single day, look at that face which differs from our own. Where do you look alike? I'm often troubled by this. It happened at a time where my sister is playing with other childrens in another room, my aunt who just passed by exclaimed, "God, aren't you just in that room!"

I am particularly close to my sister in my youth, we often play together. Sometimes, sister would even bring me to her friend's home where they are older than me for 2 years to play.

...I wondered since when our relationship begins to change? I couldn't remember the last time where I chatted happily with my sister.

Few years ago, my sister and I marked a gap suddenly, without apparent reason. It wasn't the kind of gap that people would notice, or maybe it shouldn't be said as a gap. It was just that, when she speaks to me, her face had a gleam of displeasure.

Once, when I was sitting on the sofa at the living room, I pointed an article in a magazine to my sister: "Look! this is interesting." I just said this, and she had a glance of displeasure to the magazine, and walked away after leaving a cold, "Oh." Maybe I worried too much! But at the time, my sister's attitude and her expression gave me a hint of frustration.

Maybe she aren't happy at the time, or maybe she was busy, I said to myself. I tried to convince myself that my sister only acted this of some minute displeasure.

Even if I worried too much, my sister's displeasure over me isn't one that is abnormal.

Once, when I return hom from school, I saw my sister having a joyous conversation with her friends. Speaking happily over the cordless phone, accompanied by laughter. Not to disrupt her, I sat at the sofa lightly, lowered the volume of the television, watching the programme alone.

Not long after, my sister finished her conversation, the whole house turned quiet suddenly. We sat opposite of each other, watching the TV without uttering a word. I intended to start a topic with my sister, but I hesitated, this discomforting atmosphere is brought by my sister. She seemed so happy when she just made the call, but said nothing when it left the two of us. The broke the warm, comforting atmosphere and erected an invisible wall, keeping a distance to me.

Finally, I moved closer to my sister, intending to initiate a conversation, but she just rejected me with a detesting gesture. Her reply are comparitively short, whenever she spoke to me, but it was different when she speak to mom. Such, I noticably felt that she had the intention to cut short of our conversation.

I don't know when it turns out as such, I'm afraid, it just progress till a state where I could felt her hostility towards me even before she said anything , to the point I couldn't stay around her. Till, whenever I pass by my sister, or being alone together with her in a room, I would feel nervous. My body were stiff at such occasion.

"Erin, don't you wear that shirt anymore."

That was 6 months ago, just when I am heading to the bookstore for some revision books, she pointed my shirt and said. What she pointed at, was a white sweater, I like this shirt very much for a long time. Upon close inspection, the wooly sweater had alot of tiny furballs, some of the threads are broken.

"But, I liked this shirt alot!"

My sister wasn't please with my answer.

"Oh, that is so..."

She acted as if she doesn't care about me, tilting her head aside. I stood numbly at the site, all of the sudden, I felt as if all the glories of the world had dissapeared.

Maybe they are correct in saying that both of us looked alike. But our interest and personality marked a stark constrast.

My sister was a very charming person, she smiled often, even after she had a boyfriend, admirers would gather around her, there are friends who make her a phonecall every day. She was outgoing, her interest was wide, she is seldom seen sitting at home, alone. In my eyes, sister was ever dazzling.

In opposite, I am a bookworm. I would spend my day on my desk in the recent, people in my house could only listen to the snappings of my pencil on revision, even when I am free, I would only spend my time reading historical novels. Ever since my sister entered secondary school, she would travel to places I am not familiar of, going with people I do not know of. I would only go out when pushed by my sister, I spend most of my time reading at home. These changes seemed so natural to me, but, I still love my happy, charming, sister.

My sister is a genteel person, she never voice her displeasure of me, nor she ever said anything along the line of hating me, even in some circumstances, she tried to conceal her displeasure from me. Because of this, even I stay with her everyday, I never experience her psychological changes.

Maybe, sister never like me as I imagined...

I would never find an answer to this conclusion, but beyond this, I couldn't find any other answer.

I never took the opportunity to ask my sister, not even a single sentence. But, everything is in vain. Why wouldn't I take the courage to ask her when she's alive? Maybe the answer she give would be discouraging. But its far better than sulking now.

Now, I have lost the chance to ask my sister. I could only carry my thoughts and troubles, missing my sister painfully.

In this home without sister, it felt like a night where you would never meet sunrise, it was so quiet. Totally different from what we have 2 weeks ago.

Since my parents looked at sister's body, they speak lesser and lesser, without any expression on their face. They spend more time sitting quietly in front of the television. Even sometimes on comedy, sitcoms, I never seen them laugh, not a single hint, just quietly staring at the screen. Maybe mom and dad would live such for the rest of their lives! I thought, everytime I seen them with such expression.

In the following days, no matter how happy, couraging it is, I believe, deep inside their heart, there would be that undisposable burden, such was shown in their dull expression.

Mom would still prepare dishes for me and dad, being used to ordinary days before, she was like a machine, preparing dishes on time to us everyday.

Everytime I seen the dust accumulating at the corner of our house, I felt like crying. It was too pity of mom and dad. Before sister was killed, mom would clean every corner of the house carefully, but now there's a thin layer of dust everywhere around the house, my parents didn't even notice this, they must have been thinking of my sister's laughter in her younger days. How it felt the first time they hold her in their arms, they might still feel that on their arms.

They shouldn't have enter that room where sister is placed. What they say there, marked a distinct contrast with the image of a cheerful, laughing child in their memory, it haunts them for the rest of their lives.

Now, in this lifeless home, my existence is at its minimal. Whenever I tried to talk to my father, he would only, "Um..." in responce, and nodded with mere instinct. In other words, my daily life is as same as theirs. When I talk to my friends, like my parents, I could never display my smile as I used to.

Whenever the night sky draw its curtain, I would sometimes enter into my sister's room, sitting alone and pondering. My sister's room is just next to mine, she must be angry if I didn't inform her before entering if she were alive.

Its easy to accumulate dust in a room where no one lives, I placed my hand gently to my sister's desk and felt the surface of the table had already filled with particles of fine dust.

What would she thought of when she's sitting here alive? I hold my legs while sitting on the chair, looking at the furniture in the room, thinking this. The curtain was open, it was pitch black outside, the sky had turned dark.

There's a split moment, I thought I saw my sister's face on the window. But I realised it was only my own reflection on the glass panel. Even I, myself would misrecognise my own reflection as my sister, this really proves that we looked alike, isn't it?

There's a mirror on the desk. I took it, trying to reflect my face. Suddenly, I discovered a small, tube like object, that sparks my interest. It was a lipstick. I uncovered it and give it a turn.

This is a bright lipstick, red, like blood. There are a few light coloured ones, but only this blood-red lipstick leave a strong impression on me.

I don't have to look at the mirror. Between me and my sister, whether we have lipstick, that marks our difference. I hold this lipstick tightly and leave my sister's room.

I don't know how should I live beyond this. My wandering self, hears my sister's voice once again. This happens on a night, just at the end of August.



To be continued...