Unveiling beauty " Ambw"

The life we wanted.

Abena 2012

"Eomma." That's the name Ha-na and I had begun to use for her. Somehow, it felt fitting, like a jigsaw piece falling into place. Yes, there were times when she played the role of our aunt, but in our hearts, she had always been more of a mother figure.

The first time I addressed her as eomma, she beamed, a light kiss placed upon my forehead, an affectionate seal of her approval. After a long time of referring to her as Ha-Na's aunt, this shift felt like coming home.

But acknowledging her as a mother only amplified the bitter taste of self-disappointment that lingered in my mouth. I was acutely aware of my shortcomings, and each instance of them reflected in her eyes felt like a piercing stab.

A soft patter of footsteps echoed behind me, causing my heart to race in my chest. I found myself hesitant to turn around, the weight of my secrets weighing me down.

"Just a friendly reminder, Nani, try to make an appearance downstairs today, at least," Ha-na suggested gently, her tone laced with understanding. As she sauntered past me towards the kitchen, her fingers traced a comforting path along my arm. "Every time you avoid Eomma, it's as if you're loudly proclaiming that you have something to hide. Just be yourself."

She paused, her stride interrupted as she turned to face me. "You know, that's why I'm standing by you, right? You don't have to carry this burden alone." Her words floated in the silence between us, an offer of support and solace in the face of my inner storm.

" I know." I smiled.

" See you downstairs?" She asked as she was at the doorframe.

I just nodded as she walked away, as I remained secluded in my room, my gaze affixed to the vibrant morning scene unfolding outside the window, my mind caught in a tangle of disappointment and dread. I sighed and walked downstairs eventually after the moment of silence to myself.

The early morning sun didn't care about my grievances as it streamed through the window, illuminating the kitchen in a soft glow. Ha-na was busy with her ritualistic task of brewing coffee while I sat on a bar stool, my fingers had begun tracing the countertop in boredom.

Our aunt with her reading glasses perched on her nose, flipped through the newspaper at the other end of the kitchen. The usual cacophony of breakfast preparations was replaced by an unusual silence, the only sound being the rhythmic drip of coffee into the pot.

With a steaming mug in hand, Ha-na came over to me, her usual cheerful demeanor replaced by a more sober expression. "Here, Nani," she handed me the mug, knowing I won't drink it. Hey gaze told me I should keep up with appearances, while my aunt sat near me.

"Thanks, Ha-na," I murmured, wrapping my hands around the comforting warmth of the mug.

Her aunt looked up from her newspaper, her gaze shifting from Ha-na to me, and back again. "Is everything alright?" she asked, removing her glasses. Her eyes flicked between us as if trying to piece together whatever could be the matter.

The air seemed to grow heavier, and I exchanged a glance with Ha-na. We had agreed to keep this from her until I had made up my mind. Ha-na squeezed my shoulder subtly.

"Everything's fine, eomma," Ha-na responded with a smile, but her eyes betrayed a hint of unease.

"I just didn't sleep well," I chimed in, hoping to add some weight to Ha-na's statement. "You know how it is with college prep courses. I've been trying to get ahead of the work, but found myself struggling instead.."

Our aunt seemed to consider this, her eyes studying me intently. "Well, just remember," she said, setting her newspaper aside, "stress is part and parcel of life. But it's also important to communicate and to share your burdens. We're family, after all."