Dreams Who Never Come True

Chapter 07: Have You Seen the City Yet?

(Sometime later...again)

  The sound of the doorbell. The ding dong ding dong sound of someone awaiting for the arrival of someone. It was easily and swiftly eradicated by my father, as I hear him aggressively swing the door open. There was no one else in the house who would open the door in the way my father does-it wasn't hard to figure him out. 

  The loud noises cause for me to open my eyes. I stare at the ceiling of my room, as it hangs over me, unmoving like stone sculptures. The lamp beside me flickers, then turns off. 

  "Myeong!" My father calls my name from afar, as if he figured I had woken up. I was fortunate to be awake, at the moment he called my name, otherwise I'd be facing a punishment. 

  I pull myself out from the coziness of my bed, snap myself awake, and I quickly put up my hair. I slide open the door of my room, and walk my way towards my father. 

  My mother was nowhere to be seen, as if she were still fast asleep. My father taps his foot, or shoe, impatiently against be ground. It is the only sound bouncing of the walls. 

  Outside the door, beside my father, I see Neorong. She was slowly inching away from my terrifying father. When she laid eyes on me, her expression rose from fear to excitement. She raised her arm, and waved at me giddily. 

  "Since your friend has spontaneously arrived," My father tells me, as if I couldn't see, "You and her will go to the city together, and buy me some guns from there, alright? This is my order." My father demands of me. He maintains eye contact with me, but.... he appeared less... frightening in some way. 

  Nevertheless, for I must abide to my father's words, I obediently gave my father a nod. I don't speak, I don't question him. I must be an idiot of some sorts. 

  My father doesn't bother to respond. He simply walks away, leaving me with Neorong. 

  "Well, do you want to go to the city?" Neorong asks me. Her hands mimic the movement of someone running, but instead of a fist, her hands were open. Her fingertips point to the direction of the city, while her attention was fixated onto me. 

~*~

  The city streets were bustling with people, with conversations. The voices of people chatting, trading, selling, marketing, all of that, filled the city with life. Life in the city appeared so... pleasant in comparison to my life back home. People played games, bought gifts for others, and shared meals among each other. People here were so free. Ambitions they had were achieved. Wishes, goals, all of that was reachable for them. I couldn't help but feel a trickle of envy. Oh, how much I yearned for this to be the life I had. 

  The sunlight made its way into the city. Everything was so bright, unlike my home. There was no room for the sun in my household, in my father's suburban piece of land. How did it come to a city full of lofty towers having more sunshine than the suburban house of which was far off, away from the civilization? It was almost like the world was split into two halves. My side of the world is the dark, wretched side. The dystopia. The city-side of this world is the bright, joyful side. The utopia. I was unfortunate enough to be born in the dystopia. 

  My eyes bounce off from store to store, in search of the guns my father requested for. I would have loved to just forget about my father, leave him in the past, as someone who did nothing more but just existed in my life. Wishes... aren't all so easily obtained, as much as I wished for it to be easy, it wasn't the reality. Ah, thinking of this was just.... A way to shatter hope. 

  I hold onto threads to survive. I don't have a strong rope for me to cling onto. I only have fragments, threads to cling on to. However, threads are fragile. They are not as sustainable as their original form, a strong, thick rope. Threads tear apart, and everything on it and with it crumbles down to the ground as it falls to the ground. Threads can be lingering off the sides of strong ropes, or they could be isolated from the rest of the ropes.