Every Spring Returns, Swallows Return to Their Nests

When I was eight years old, my parents took home a beautiful younger brother. He was very disobedient. I fed him candy and he bit off half of my finger. I gave him a bath and he pushed my whole head into the bathtub. I went to my uncle's house to play games and wanted to give him chocolates in the city in exchange. He rushed in like crazy and tore off a piece of flesh from his uncle's leg. He said his home was in the capital, far away. I don't understand, but he cried behind my back at night and wet the pillow. I think he is homesick. So I took him out secretly, stuffed all the candies I had saved into his pocket, and pushed him away. My parents' fists and sticks fell down, and the blood was mixed with sugar water. I thought I would just sleep off. He is really disobedient. He ran back and lay on top of me, tears falling into my mouth, salty and astringent. The kitchen knife was across his neck. "If you beat her to death, I will die with her!"