It was just a normal day. It was Saturday. I always do what I do when it's Saturday. I was sitting on the sofa comfortably with my legs spread under a pillow. I was browsing through my phone while the tv was on and I left my laptop open on the table at the center of our living room. 

My brother suddenly went down from his room upstairs wearing his Saturday home clothes and sat down to browse on my laptop. He asked for my password and I gave it to him not minding what he would do.

I heard he played a video. It was familiar and then I knew what it was. 

I didn't turn to look though because it felt weird. He was watching a video with our sister on it. Our sister who passed away a few years ago.

Suddenly, my fingers stopped on what it was doing on my phone and acted like I was doing something else; still not looking at what he was doing because again, I knew.

I heard him sniff. I knew he didn't have a cold. I knew he cried. I knew because I felt it. 

It was the second time or maybe the third time I heard him cry because of missing our sister so much. He always acted like nothing is wrong - And we're actually the same with that kind of attitude. 

I heard not just a soft cry but I knew he had a hard time breathing normally. I felt bad because I wasn't able to comfort him and just because I wasn't really showy of how I feel.

He's in pain. 

He acted like nothing happened and like he's always okay.

It was then a different Saturday for me.