사랑하니까 (On the Wings of Love)

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-Flashback-

Dust had collected atop the cardboard storage box labeled ‘Swimming’. Even the masking tape upon which the words were written in huge bold letters was peeling off at the sides. A twelve-year-old Yoona sat in her room with the considerably bulky box settled between her feet, sighing as she watched her finger turn grey from the dirt particles that collected with simply a swipe of her puny index finger.

After brushing the remaining grime off with her arm, she carefully lifted the top off and set it aside, eyes glimmering at the sight of the brand-new swimming equipment. The very first thing that caught her attention was a pretty, pink-colored swimsuit patterned with randomly arranged, white little heart shapes. The price tag was still securely attached to it. She immediately remembered the day she went shopping with her parents when they spent a good two hours just picking it out because there were too many beautiful designs to choose from.

Apart from the bathing suit were a pair of goggles, sunscreen lotion, a deflated float, supposedly a giraffe when inflated, a water gun, as well as a pink body towel. They were all brand spanking new. The child picked up each and every item for a closer look, picturing herself at the beach and imagining how much fun it would actually be to spend a nice day out with her parents. Her friends in school were always talking about how lovely their weekends were but she never quite understood how they felt, at least not anymore. She thought being an only child was all about getting the full attention of both her parents anytime she wanted but she was wrong.

Yet things were not always like that. They used to be a happy, close-knitted family like any other. There were regular outings, gifts showered upon her any other day, and memorable birthday parties. Laughter always reverberated throughout the house.

Like a fragile house of cards met with a strong gale, however, Yoona’s world came crumbling down the day her father arrived home in a drunken stupor, cursing and swearing at his mother, and creating a big ruckus about how his business had failed miserably. It was the first time she had witnessed her father behaving so barbarically and it scared her. He had completely transformed into a man she could not recognize. She was only eleven then.

Things spiraled out of control during the months that followed. Her father would come home stoned every other day, obscenities flowing out of his wretched mouth as he flung random objects, oftentimes deadly ones, at her mother and herself. Her mother frequently got injured in the process of trying to shield her from the assaults. There were many nights when Yoona heard her mother sobbing uncontrollably in her room after an argument.

“Yoona?” A familiar voice accompanied by two soft knocks at her door jolted her slightly, and she turned her head towards the entrance of her room just to see the door nudge open. In stepped her mother, suitcase in one hand, and coat in the other.

“U-umma? The young girl’s eyes grew large when she observed that the older woman’s eyes were red and puffy, probably from crying. More than anything else, the seemingly heavy luggage she was lugging behind her worried Yoona. She recalled seeing those things on television. People usually carried them when they were about to travel to far-off places.

Without delay, the adolescent shoved the box in front of her aside and dashed over, pouring questions about why she was crying, who had upset her, what she was doing with the suitcase, and where she was going. Her expression grew ominous when her mother explained that she was leaving for Japan with a friend for the time being because she needed a break. When Yoona attempted to ask her why she could not tag along, there was no reply.