Dreams Who Never Come True

Chapter 12: Don't You See, the Consequences of Your Actions?

At once, my father's gaze drifts towards my wounded mother. His eyes lit up with pure anger and rage, as he turned towards Ji-ho and I. Holding his gun up high, at both Ji-ho and I, he demanded for answers from us. Answers of questions, questions that could easily be answered. Unlike my own questions, who were left in the dark. Forgotten, and out of reach. While my questions held no answers, my father's did so. It was a clear difference between us.

My mother's tottering steps triggered all sorts of reactions within my father. Her bloodied self, injured. She vacillated a bit, but then held her pose. She placed her hand over the blood trickling down, covering it. It wasn't like she could conceal it though. No matter how convert she wanted it to be, she couldn't reach that. Why? Because my father has already seen the scene with his own two eyes. He didn't just fire the gunshots for no reason.

My father then lowers his gun, and before I knew it, he was besides my mother's side. With eyes full of affection and care, he held a cloth over the bleeding wounds of my mother. My mother's foolhardy actions had certainly arose concern within my father. I could tell just by the look on his face. While he cared gravely for our mother, however, he does not care as much about our mother as much as he does to us. After all, he is, in my opinion, a demagogue. I wasn't sure how others saw him though. I've never watched, with my own eyes, him react to others face to face.

He asks my mother whether she was alright or not, "Hayami? Are you alright? Do you need bandages? Medicine? Anything? Who did this to you? Is it Ji-ho? Or did he come and do something?"

I didn't understand my father's words. I knew that he expressed concern to my mother, but I did not understand the context of his words. Who is this he? Why was Ji-ho immediately blamed for harming my mother? Was that really how much my father disliked Ji-ho? I've known for a while, my father has grown to dislike Ji-ho, because Ji-ho, in his eyes, is a failure. A failed experiment. I didn't know much details regarding this matter, for I was too young at the time when this occurred. Everyone else in my family knew, but I was left in the dark.

Secrets were aggrieving. They pricked and pried at my thoughts, urging me to want to find out the reality. But, a secret wouldn't be a secret if someone else knew of this 'secret.' If I knew about the secrets, the answers to my questions, then I would have nothing else to ask. The answer I cannot find will no longer become that. It would turn into an answer that I can reach. It wouldn't be so interesting, and hooking to me. But at the same time, it bothered me.

My mother, who was now exhausted and faltering from the blood of which she should've patched up before, doesn't respond my father just yet. She is silent for a while. Probably because of the injuries and not wanting for Ji-ho to be harmed. But, she didn't need to speak even a letter in order for my father to figure out who had injured her.

After those silent moments, my father picked back up his gun, and pointed it directly at Ji-ho. With nothing but the scent and feeling a murderer radiates off, or a psychopath I should say, my father glares at Ji-ho. Ji-ho falls down, trembling in fear. My father was a terrifying man, especially when people he valued were in pain. Like a shield, he would defend. Like a sword, he would stab.

Then, boom. Another gun shot is fired. I really didn't understand, why were so many gunshots being fired here and there now? What was up with today and guns? The shot echoes off the walls of the room, filling the room with the quivering sound of it. I was growing sick of the continuous sound of gun shots. It's boom, boom, boom. It was even the sight that was just sickening. I've only remembered guns to be something that caused harm among others. Something to threaten the safety of others, jeopardize their lives. But, everyone fears guns now. With just one small, black gun, one may have the ability to cause for one to fall to their knees.

I was curious of whether guns were overused or not. Overrated perhaps? I was unsure. I've only seen people fire the gunshots; I've never done so myself, nor did I ever intend to wield that weapon in my hand. From first impression, I imagined a gun to be cool to the touch, but the tiny waves would cause for the gun to feel a bit rough. I never planned on knowing how a gun truly felt like, however, for I held no interest in wielding one and utilizing it. For now.

I watched Ji-ho shrink back, changing completely from his demeanor earlier. I couldn't help but feel worried and scared for him. What was my father going to do, with that dangerous weapon at hand? He could kill Ji-ho right here and now, and taint my once-clean room with blood. The blood would never leave my room, it would stain my room and my thoughts with it.

I hug myself, simply just because I needed some reassurance. Everything will be alright, right? That's what I wanted to believe. I wanted to fall into an imaginary world, where everything would be picture perfect for me. Where I could smile, and live in a dilly-dally universe. A perfect utopia, the very opposite of my puzzling world around me.

Fear eclipsed my mind. It exuded itself from some arcane place, into my mind, contaminating it. Just like the ink that exuded from the feather and pen, it filled my entire mind with itself. It's ravenous and hungry self, ready to gorge deep into it's prey, till their prey was sucked dry from life. Till their prey was left lifeless on the ground, still, and silent.

My father steps on Ji-ho's leg, causing for him to wither in pain. Nothing but grimace lingered in my father's eyes, as he held the gun straight to Ji-ho's forehead. Ji-ho didn't move, he just shook in fear and pain. I could sense he wished to run away, far away from my father.

Screams erupt from Ji-ho, as my father broke one of Ji-ho's leg bones. The crushing sound of the now-fractured bone sent shivers down my spine. This was torture. My father was torturing Ji-ho, throwing him in an immense amount of pain. Way too much pain for someone as young as him. Both him and I were young. I wondered why, at this age, I was witness to this scene.

I glance over at my mother, of who, I realized, was resting. She laid in sleep, while Ji-ho was writhing in pain. The cloth was wrapped around her wounds formed by Ji-ho. My mother has always been just... tired. She was always doing something of which she would never tell us about. Something that she kept a secret. But I know that that thing was something that sacrificed her sleep. She was typically tired and exhausted, but yet, she still bothered with us. That's why I favored my mother over my father. That's why my mother is the kindest person I've ever known in this world. No one, I believe, could top her.

Ji-ho lifts up his own dagger, and tries to strike my father down. My father, with ease, avoids Ji-ho's blow, and fires a gunshot at Ji-ho's right hand. Blood spluttered out the moment the bullet made contact, erupting like a volcano. It poured down like molten lava, evidently staining my ground with Ji-ho's blood. Why? Why was there so much bloodshed today?

I watch the scene being displayed towards my eyes with utmost horror. I wasn't sure who to root for, my father or Ji-ho. A few minutes ago, Ji-ho had attempted to rid me of my life, while at the same time, my father was just someone who would continuously abuse and threaten me. It was impossible for me to choose.

"You are no longer allowed to live under this roof." My father proclaims after some time of torturing Ji-ho. He doesn't delineate further about his claim. I noticed that my father held no remorse in his eyes. He truly did not care about Ji-ho's wellbeing. All he cared about was for our mother, and no one else. With his eyes as pools of fire, he snatches Ji-ho's arm, and drags him out of my room.

I was perturbed. I wanted to run away, run away from this cage that I have been locked in for who-knows-how-long.

I thought Ji-ho's response would be of lackluster. That it would've atrophied. It didn't. By the look in his eyes, behind the pain that glimmered, I could sense a whiff of joy. Zealous excitement, perhaps. Was this Ji-ho's plan to escape our house or trap, set by our father? Was this his way of leaving me here, to deal with our parents, all alone, while he enjoyed a life outside of this dystopia?

Then, after a few, eerie moments of silence, of which I did not believe to be silent, I heard the door slam shut on Ji-ho.
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This chapter feels a bit bad, or rushed in some way, but I'll fix it in the future (Of course, when I reread over everything and revise, etc, etc.) I would love your opinion on of this chapter! ❤️
Have a good day/night!
-Contrastgaze