Since reuniting with Dimas on that rainy afternoon, Thomas's life was no longer the same. It felt as though he were walking on a thin layer of ice that could crack at any moment. The shadows of the past were no longer just memories; they were real, breathing ghosts.
Thomas was haunted by a paralyzing fear. He wanted to scream, to confess that he was the architect behind the tragedy that took Dimas's legs. But every time he opened his mouth, his courage withered. He was terrified that the warmth in Dimas's eyes would turn into hatred. He was terrified Dimas would validate that he was indeed a "Destructive Monster." He was terrified Dimas's parents would spit in his face. And what he feared most: he wasn't ready to lose the only forgiveness he had, even if that forgiveness was built on a lie.
That night, the atmosphere in their cramped room felt more suffocating than usual. Thomas sat leaning against the corner, knees pulled up to his chest. A textbook lay open in his hands, but his eyes stared blankly at the plywood wall where the paint had begun to peel—a perfect representation of his increasingly fragile defenses.
"Thomas…"
The voice broke his trance. Thomas flinched and turned quickly, finding Eben staring at him from the opposite mattress with his round, innocent eyes.
Thomas cleared his throat, hurriedly adjusting his book and pretending to read. "What?"
"Are you okay?" Eben asked, his tone full of genuine concern.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Thomas replied flatly without looking back, his fingers flipping a page he hadn't even read a single sentence of.
"Then why have you been so quiet and spacing out lately? You look sad all the time."
Thomas let out a harsh sigh. "I'm just tired from studying, Ben. High school lessons are hard. You don't need to worry."
Eben sat up, staring intently at his younger brother. "If you have a problem, tell Eben, okay? Eben is Thomas's big brother. Maybe Eben can help."
The sentence struck Thomas's heart. Help? he thought cynically. You can't even help yourself. However, Thomas chose to remain silent.
"Since you graduated junior high, you aren't like you used to be, Thomas," Eben mumbled softly, as if talking to himself. "Thomas used to be so spirited."
"Well, I can't be a little kid forever," Thomas cut in quickly, trying to rationalize his shift in attitude with logic, his reliable weapon. "I'm growing up, becoming an adult. So my personality changes too. It's a normal biological and psychological process for humans."
Eben nodded, digesting the complicated words. "Oh, that's true. Humans grow and change." As always, Eben accepted any answer as long as it sounded reasonable to him.
"Never mind, Ben. Don't disturb me. I want to concentrate," Thomas concluded, ending the conversation before his emotions flared up.
***
The next day, the sun shone brightly, but Thomas's day remained overcast.
The school bell had just rung. Thomas deliberately left last, avoiding the crowd, walking along the dusty sidewalk. But bad luck seemed to have a routine schedule for him.
At a quiet intersection, Thomas's steps halted. In front of him stood the four figures he avoided most: Bobby, Henry, Lucas, and Billy.
"Hello, Thomas…" Henry greeted with a tone of fake friendliness. He immediately wrapped his arm around Thomas from behind, locking Thomas's neck in a tight grip.
Thomas froze. His body went rigid, resigned.
Without a cue, Lucas and Billy's hands went to work. They rummaged through his shirt pockets, pants pockets, and roughly dug through the contents of his bag.
"Nothing here, Bob," Lucas reported, disappointed.
"Yeah, completely empty," Billy chimed in.
Bobby's face hardened. He stepped closer, staring sharply at Thomas. "Where are you hiding your money, Thom? We need cigarettes. Our mouths feel sour."
Henry's grip on his neck tightened, making Thomas cough slightly. "My money… my money is gone. I used it to buy worksheets this morning," Thomas answered honestly, his voice hoarse.
"Didn't you promise to give us our share this week?" Billy hissed.
"A broken promise means consequences. Just like usual, right?" Bobby smirked. He gave a small nod of his head.
Lucas, understanding the code, suddenly shoved Thomas's thin body sideways with all his might.
"WAAAA!"
SPLASH!
Thomas's body was hurled into the open drainage ditch on the side of the road. The black, foul-smelling, sludge-filled water welcomed him. His white-and-gray uniform instantly turned a brownish-black. The stench was stinging, piercing his nose.
Laughter exploded from above.
"Mud bath, Boss!" Lucas shouted, clutching his stomach.
Thomas tried to get up, his feet slipping on the slick bottom of the ditch. His face burned red, a mix of suppressed anger and scorching shame. For a moment, a wild desire crossed his mind to climb up and punch them. But the image of Dimas's wheelchair flashed in his mind.
This is karma, a voice whispered in his head. You deserve this filthy place, Thomas. He fell silent again, accepting his fate.
Suddenly, a loud scream rang out.
"THOMAS! OH MY GOD!"
A young man in shabby clothes with a large burlap sack on his shoulder ran hurriedly towards them. It was Eben.
Ignoring Bobby's gang, Eben threw his sack to the ground and knelt at the edge of the ditch. His face was filled with sheer panic.
"Here! Grab Eben's hand!" he shouted.
Thomas looked up from the puddle of mud. In his eyes, Eben's presence right now was a double disaster. He was being humiliated, and now he was being "saved" by his 'different' brother in front of his bullies. Thomas wanted to slap the hand away, wanted to disappear into the earth, but he had no choice.
Eben didn't care about his brother's reluctant gaze. He pulled Thomas's hand hard until the thin body managed to climb back onto the sidewalk. After making sure his brother was standing, Eben turned around. His face, usually friendly and submissive, was now flushed with anger. He stared at Bobby and his friends bravely.
"Why are you just standing there?!" Eben scolded, his breath ragged. "Why didn't you help Thomas?! Poor him, he fell!"
Bobby and his gang didn't retaliate with shouting. Instead, they looked at each other with amused expressions, as if watching a free circus show.
Bobby raised both hands, feigning shock with an overly polite tone. "Whoa, relax. Don't get angry. We were just about to help, but then you showed up like a hero."
Lucas and Billy giggled softly behind Bobby's back, covering their mouths so the laughter wouldn't explode.
Bobby tilted his head, looking Eben up and down, then shifted his gaze to Thomas. His eyes narrowed slyly. "By the way... who are you to Thomas? You two look so much alike."
Eben puffed out his chest, his protective instinct kicking in without realizing he was being made into a joke. "He is my LITTLE BROTHER!" he stated firmly.
Silence for a moment.
That information landed in their ears like a comedy punchline. Bobby pressed his lips together tightly, trying hard not to laugh out loud. He turned to Henry and Lucas, exchanging meaningful glances. The look said: 'Oh, that explains it. From the same factory.'
"Oh... So you're actually brothers," Lucas muttered while nodding, a suppressed mocking smile on the corner of his lips. "No wonder... the resemblance is uncanny."
There were no insults like "idiot" or "servant." Just agreeing murmurs and amused, condescending smiles. And for Thomas, that subtle reaction was far more painful than physical blows. It was an intellectual humiliation that stripped his dignity bare.
Bobby patted Eben's shoulder gently. "Alright then, good Big Brother. Take care of your little brother, don't let him fall again."
Then, they walked away clutching their stomachs, their shoulders shaking as they held back the laughter that finally burst out once they were some distance away. Leaving Thomas standing frozen with the remnants of his shattered pride beside his brother.
Thomas stood like a statue. Eben's confession just now felt like it had stripped him naked. All this time he had tried to hide the fact that he had a brother like Eben, and now, at his lowest moment, that fact had been announced.
"I'm fine, Ben! No one is hurt," Thomas slapped away Eben's hand, which was trying to wipe the mud from his shoulder. He roughly took off his soaked uniform shirt, leaving only a plain black t-shirt.
"How did you fall, Thomas?" Eben asked anxiously.
"I wasn't watching the road! Drop it, this happens all the time!" Thomas snapped, avoiding eye contact. "I want to go home now. You just continue your activity. Don't follow me."
"Oh... okay then. Be careful on the way, Thomas," Eben replied, his eyes still watching his brother's back with worry.
Thomas walked fast, almost running. He wasn't running from physical pain, but running from the burning shame of his brother's existence.
***
Thomas had to get home immediately. He smelled foul and sticky.
Usually, since learning the truth about Dimas, Thomas would willingly take a detour five hundred meters longer just to avoid the cream-fenced house. But today, the logic of desperation took over. He was freezing and uncomfortable in his clothes. The road past Dimas's house was the only fastest route to wash himself and hide under a blanket.
Just keep your head down. Walk fast. Don't look back, he repeated the mantra in his head along with his heavy steps.
However, the universe seemed intent on testing Thomas's mental state to the limit.
As he passed the cream-fenced house, the sound of splashing water could be heard. Dimas was there, sitting in his wheelchair, watering the hanging potted plants.
Dimas turned when he heard the hurried footsteps.
"Hi, Thomas…" Dimas greeted cheerfully, the hose still in his hand.
Thomas's steps were forced to a halt. His body tensed up. The guilt that had been briefly covered by anger and shame now ambushed him again with full force.
Slowly, Thomas turned. The contrast was stark: Dimas, clean and smelling fresh with an angelic smile, facing Thomas, whose pants were covered in gutter sludge and reeked of rot.
"Oh... hi, Dimas," Thomas answered softly, bowing his head to hide his face.
Dimas's forehead furrowed deeply. His smile faded, replaced by pure worry. His eyes swept over Thomas's pants, pitch black with mud. "Oh my God! Thom! What happened? Why are you so dirty?"
"I... I fell into a ditch earlier because I wasn't watching the road," Thomas lied, again.
"Whoa!" Dimas put down the hose. His face was full of sincere concern. "Come here, Thom! Come in for a second. Clean off the dirt using the tap in the yard. It'll get itchy if it dries on your skin."
The offer slammed into Thomas's gut.
Look at it. Look at how ironic God's joke is. The person whose future he destroyed was now offering water to clean the filth off his body. Dimas wanted to cleanse him of germs, without knowing that Thomas was the actual plague.
"No need, Dimas," Thomas refused quickly, stepping back. "I don't want to get wet here. I'll just do it at home. I'm in a hurry too."
"Are you sure? Your house is still far away," Dimas asked to make sure.
"Yeah, I'm sure. I'll go first, Dim," Thomas forced a stiff smile.
"Oh, okay then. Be careful, Thom!" Dimas called out while waving his hand, his beautiful smile blooming once again.
Thomas picked up his pace. He felt so small. He felt despicable. Dimas was too kind. Dimas's kindness was no longer a gift, but the cruelest torture, peeling away his soul piece by piece.
All the way home, one thought raged in his head: Should I be honest? Should I say right now that I am the devil who put him in that chair?
But fear choked him again. No. I'm scared he'll hate me.
***
Arriving home, Thomas showered immediately, scrubbing his body roughly as if trying to erase the traces of that day's misfortune. But the shame and anger still lingered in his chest.
Now, he lay on his mattress, staring at the dull ceiling of the room. His mind drifted to Dimas.
What would happen if I told him? Thomas thought. He would definitely hate me.
The door opened. Eben entered with a towel around his neck, his hair wet. He had just finished showering after returning from scavenging.
Eben saw his brother spacing out again. His memory went back to the incident in the ditch earlier.
"Thomas," Eben called softly. "Did you get hurt when you fell earlier? Any scratches?"
The question was simple. A form of brotherly love. But for Thomas, who was frantic and feeling inferior, the question lit the short fuse of his emotions. He needed an outlet.
Thomas sat up, his eyes glaring.
"I'M FINE, BEN!" Thomas shouted loudly, making Eben jump in surprise.
"I already told you on the road that I was fine!" Thomas pointed to his ear with his index finger. "Are you deaf?! Huh?!"
The harsh words poured out. He knew Eben had just saved him this afternoon. But he couldn't stop. He hated Eben because Eben was a witness to his weakness.
Hearing the shout, Eben fell silent. His lips trembled slightly, but he wasn't angry.
"Oh... right, yeah," Eben mumbled softly, looking down at the floor. "Thomas already said he was fine on the road."
Eben lifted his face, looking at Thomas with a hesitant, thin smile. "Okay, sorry, Thomas. Eben was just worried. Eben didn't mean to disturb you."
"Next time, don't repeat questions over and over!" Thomas continued, his tone high but his heart stinging. "It is very, very annoying!"
"Yes, Thomas. Eben understands," Eben replied quietly.
With slow steps and slumped shoulders, Eben turned and walked out of the room, closing the door very carefully so as not to make a sound.
Leaving Thomas alone in the silence. He dropped his back onto the mattress again, covering his face with his arm.