I was supposed to have a twin brother.

Back then, my mom was pregnant with twins, but she accidentally fell and gave birth prematurely. When my brother was born, he was already lifeless.

One thing my mom often said to me was, "Why wasn't it you, the gloomy star, who had no life back then?"

I'm not always gloomy, I just rarely come across things that make me smile.

When I was four, I gained a little brother.

He was the apple of the family's eye, pampered by grandma and loved by grandpa. Everyone in the family wanted to give the best of everything to my little brother.

Meanwhile, I was like a nanny taking care of my brother at home.

Except during feeding time, I was the one looking after my brother.

Changing his diapers, putting him to sleep, making him laugh, playing with him.

So, the first word my brother uttered was "sister," unclearly.

I was very happy, thinking my brother was really cute.

But my mom gave me a cold look, "Don't you know to teach your brother to call mom and dad first?"

Grandma also said, "Good grandson, why doesn't your sister teach you to call grandma?"

After that day, my parents rarely let me take care of my brother because they said he should be closer to them.

I didn't understand how a few months old child could know who to be close to.