The Flowers He Gave Me |Kim Namjoon|

08. a lone soul

– a lone soul –

DAY AFTER DAY LIFE GETS MORE TERRIFYING than before. It's like I'm fighting to get through the days. It's a constant battle to go on. Before Binna's passing, I thought I had it hard. I thought I was at my weakest point.

It didn't take long to realize she was keeping me up. She was the hero in our story. I was merely the sidekick.

Now I've arrived at another chapter in my life. And I don't share the spotlight with her anymore. I feel more alone than ever. My shoulders now carry too much pressure. They're unable to keep up–I can't keep up without her.

It happened too fast. And to the wrong person.

I press my legs against my chest, my back facing the door of my bedroom. With clenched fists, I sob until I can no longer. I've spent days like this–a week, to be precise. And now that it's Friday once again, I haven't been able to get out of my bed at all.

There's no chance I'd be strong enough to set foot in the Magnifica, where Binna should now be screaming at the top of her lungs. Maybe I'll never be as strong, because it was always Binna. She got me out of the house. She helped me live.

Another argument is audible, even with the numbness I'm feeling. If every scream would shake the walls of our house, all would be on the ground. My parents' arguments only multiplied the past week. Binna's death was the beginning of the end.

Unlike other times, I cannot stop myself from catching some sentences that are yelled. I'm a frozen ball, nestled in my bedsheets, listening to curses too horrible for me to understand. I note that this fight doesn't difference much from others, though the voices aren't as highly raised. It's as if they, too, are too fatigued of the situation.

The voices fade more and more, until there's complete silence. Only the clock on my bedside table ticks and ticks. It goes on, unlike other... certain factors in our world. I listen carefully, the silence already giving me goosebumps. I've always liked silence, but it just doesn't fit in our house. I'm not used to this calmness.

That's when I know something's up.

My distrust proves to be entirely right when a figure storms into the comfortable space around me, ruining the strange silence our house now provides us with.

My mom's fingers dig through her wild hair. Having entered my bedroom, she's unsure where she's situated in the beginning. After a few rapid blinks, her unfocused gaze becomes more natural. Finally, our eyes meet, and I can sense the truth in the air before they're said.

"Your father and I are getting a divorce."

Being at loss for decent words, I realize my turn has come for shock to fall upon me, to take me over for a moment. I'd accuse my mother of lying, but I can see it in her irises–the way they're brighter than ever. She's shining while she is not. Hope has met her, finally. It is her time.

"Mom," I breathe, in shock still. "That's amazing."

She lets out a gasp then. It's almost as if she hadn't believed the reality of a future without my father before I responded to it. "It's happening." Tears of happiness appear in her once so dull eyes. Now, I can see energy in them–she's ready for her own new chapter. She repeats the words once more before exiting in a hurry. I don't say more to her.

It's all changing.

My head's spinning, and I don't recover as fast as Mom did. My mind remains clouded, even as I pinch the skin of my hand to check if all of this is, in fact, happening. It is. It really is.

My face becomes paler than ever, I notice in the tiny mirror hanging on my door. I stare at my own reflection out of surprise of the suddenness. For years have I wanted this moment to come–have prayed for it to happen. Now, that it has, I feel overwhelmed. Because it's all happening at once.

I press my hand to my trembling lips. It's all coming at me like crazy, and I don't have my best friend as support. I don't have her anymore. I might as well have nothing at all. She was my rock. She was everything. And now all is gone.

Bit by bit do I feel myself slipping away due to anxiety toward who I am or will be in the upcoming future. Because Binna's passing wasn't simply the beginning of the end, it opened a door for my mother and I to get out. We have nothing to stay for.

I let out a hollow bark of laughter. Do I? Have I nothing or no one to stay for? Really?

Through my panic, I succeed in reaching for my phone. The device suddenly feels so breakable in my grip. It feels so weak, like, apparently, everything else here, on earth. Everything's to be discarded eventually. Everything.

N

A

M

J

O

O

N

A first teardrop wets the skin beneath my eye.

The device's ringing begins, a terribly annoying sound to hear.

I'll know whether I've got someone to stay for. I'll find out.

The sound dims eventually, until it stops entirely. Silence takes over, but it isn't because he took the call. It's because he didn't. Before my phone can switch to voicemail, I lay off, letting out a disappointed sigh.

My heart changes then–realizes. I wanted him to take the stupid call. I hoped, like my mother. I hoped I did have someone to stay in Korea for. I hoped I had someone. That hope alone pushes me to try again. So, I do.

No difference. Kim Namjoon doesn't accept my call, which surprises me more than it should. Before last Friday, I'd began relying on him. He became a great help–a second rock even. He was there for me.

But where is he now?

There's no one on the other side of the call, not even when I try a third time. A fourth one. He doesn't take it. I think that, somewhere, I hoped he could replace part of Binna. That he'd make sure the pain left. I wouldn't care if it's only for a minute or a whole twenty-four-hours. I only wish for the pain–the hole inside of me–to leave me alone. I want it gone.

It appears Namjoon's not the one to ease my pain, after all. Nor is my mother now she's high on euphoria. She's happy, as am I for her, though I cannot share the full intensity of it. That's impossible now. Maybe my happy days are over entirely. I don't know anymore.

Stay here. With that guy. Those were Binna's words to me. My arms curl around my waist as my body shakes, sobbing. I'll find a way home, she said afterward.

Stay here. With that guy–I fear that isn't possible.

I stare emptily in front of me, remembering her voice still so, so well. Will that change? Will my memory of her fade–or change–over time? Will she truly leave my side that way?

I'll find a way home.

I can only hope she really did find her way home, being now one of the stars in the adorning sky at night.

-

Y'all ain't ready for the next chapter. Just saying............