One of my teachers once asked my class what our favourite memory was. She was asking for the moment in which “you felt the best, you felt that you had the world in the palm of your hand. ” Some described grand awards; others described winning a tournament. But I felt the best when I first learned how to ride my bike at thirteen. I didn’t mind my classmate’s stares and snickering, because I knew there was more to the story.
My brother and I shared a typical brotherly relationship: we couldn’t stand each other. Or, to be honest, he couldn’t stand me. I hero-worshipped him. My clothes mysteriously looked like his, and even my words tended to mimic those I heard from him. Many times, I even wanted to literally follow my brother, sobbing every time I was prevented from hanging around with him. Needless to say, I was an annoyance to him. Any sort of conversation we had usually degraded to fighting, and try as I might, my brother usually won.
After a while, I stopped trying to impress him and learned to be totally indifferent; perhaps the silent treatment would get more approval. I was wrong. We soon fell into a sad pattern—I avoided him, he ignored me, and deep inside, it hurt. Indifferent or hostile, he was only a brother in name. So that’s how it was between us. I believed we would forever be apart, two housemates without conversation, two strangers without warmth. And nothing more.
I still remember the day I learned to ride a bike. I had received it that Christmas, which was great, until I realized I had no idea how to ride it. My mom was too busy and had long since abandoned any attempt to teach me. I decided to teach myself to ride, a little bit each day, but in vain. On that fateful day, it was no different. I was coming to the end of my daily one-hour torture, and I was so frustrated that I threw my bike aside and began to cry.
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I guess that was what caused my brother to come outside.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________An hour later, I was showing off my riding skill to my mom.
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