After an emotional goodbye to my brother a few days ago, I wanted to relive my experience of him getting into his dream school last December, so here it is! I hope you enjoy!
My stomach dropped in anticipation of the news as if I were in a high-speed rollercoaster, though this was his ride, his destination—not mine.
“Whatever the result is, we know you tried your best. We are so proud of you,” my mother murmured, tears almost welling up in her eyes. Oh, my poor mother. How she believed in him, worried for him during all his sleepless nights spent chasing his dreams. I didn’t know who would be more devastated—Alex, or Mom—if he got rejected.
My father simply stood erect at the back; his face, cold as stone, unreadable as usual. But wait, this time was different; I noticed his palms rubbing together, his dilated pupils fixated on my brother’s laptop screen, as if entranced by an optical illusion. For an ephemeral moment, I saw a hint of eagerness creeping onto his face. Was he smiling?
Though it was the middle of December, the room’s temperature skyrocketed from the heat radiating off our bodies. I could practically hear the heavy thumping of my brother’s heartbeat.
“I am opening it now,” Alex whispered anxiously at last.
Through his tone, it was indistinguishable whether he was dying to know the result or didn’t want to know his fate. Probably both. Ugh, hurry up already.
Finally, he pressed the login button on his portal. Unexpectedly, a video popped up and before any of us could react, it played a cheer. The background music, resembling Christmas music, was ironically upbeat, for I knew how many dreams would be utterly crushed after watching this introduction. Hopefully not his.
As the video screen turned dark, reflecting the starless night outside, a period of utter silence ensued as four pairs of eyes waited agonizingly for what was to come. The hands of the clock seemed to move in slow motion. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, it came. His dream—the final moment after years of his hard work—had arrived. It was time to see whether it was worth it. I had barely processed the unassuming white letters etched on the digital black canvas before the room exploded in ecstasy.
“Welcome to the **** Class of 2024!”
My brother sprung like a kangaroo from his chair, and for a brief moment, gravity turned itself off to honour his moment, granting him flight with his newly formed wings. His beatific facial expression, his beaming smile, his wide-eyed look of pure radiance and pride—I have never before seen him like that. Even my father screamed.
But as ecstasy shone in his eyes, tears shimmered in mine. Tears that formed from dark, twisted emotions expanding from deep down in my gut: concern, anxiety, queasiness.
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