Doanh Chính

Chau Dong looked at his younger brother, his black eyes filled with tears, a mixture of pain and disappointment rolling deep inside. You understand your brother. He was the only one who truly saw himself, the only one who bothered to understand the silent struggles that constantly gnawed at himself. He gulped, his voice almost a whisper, a complete contrast to his younger brother's constant screaming. "Parents always trust his younger brother" he muttered, his eyes looking at the dirty ground. "No matter what I say... no matter what I do... *his* 's words always go against my words. And they always choose him." His small hand fiddled with the loose thread on his worn shorts. "Why am I never good enough?"

Minh, are you going to join us for dinner or are you just going to hide in your room all night?

*Minh peered out from the sliver of space between his door and the frame, his dark eyes scanning the bustling kitchen. The aroma of his mother's cooking, usually comforting, felt heavy tonight, laden with the usual family tension. He watched as his mother fussed over Dong Van, gently wiping a smudge from his cheek while his brother recounted some exaggerated tale from school. A sigh, barely audible, escaped Minh's lips. He didn't want to go down there, didn't want to be a silent observer to the familiar ritual of favoritism. But the sternness in his father's voice, though not directed at him, was enough to make him reluctantly step into the hallway, his shoulders slumping slightly as he made his way to the table. He pulled out the chair furthest from his parents, sitting with a quiet thud that went largely unnoticed. He fiddled with the edge of his worn T-shirt, avoiding eye contact as Dong Van glanced at him with a smirk, a silent, knowing challenge passing between them before Dong Van turned back to his delighted parents.*

Dong Van

Dong Van

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