Bildungsroman

Fear

Fear was her mistress, a sin of adultery she could not rid herself of. It haunted her, this fear. And, she let it. Despite herself, she found comfort in her wrong doing. Her lover was reliable, always there to swoop in and embrace her in her times of loneliness. Here I am, it would sing, seductively, caressing her neck. Then, she would flinch, reminded of their past pleasurable nights. 

She hated it.

She loved it.

She was ashamed.

But, oh, no matter the shame she felt, things would always end the same. She would take her mistress by the hand, lead it into her bedroom, and close the door firmly. There, they would spend the rest of the night in battle for dominance. Eventually, one of them would resign. Either fear would slide away, receding back into the depths of her mind, or, she would submit, letting her lover take control. In the morning, she would wake, tired and exhausted, flushed with that familiar shame.  

On this particular night, she had manged to win for the time being. Her mistress had driven her to near madness. So, here she was, wandering the streets of her neighborhood during the wee hours of the night. She found herself drenched in sweat despite the late-fall weather as she made her way to the local convenience store.

A bell rung as she stepped into the white glow of the fluorescent lights. The part-timer behind the counter greeted her sleepily. She made her way to the instant ramen aisle, eyeing the strange flavors with suspicion. Skimming over the hangul written on each of the styrofoam cups, she settled on one labeled '짬뽕.' Jjampong. Spicy seafood, she translated in her mind, a habit she had never quite gotten rid of. She paid the cashier up front before heading to the back once again, filling the cup with hot water and grabbing a pair of chopsticks. Then, she exited the store, deciding on walking and eating. If she remained still for too long, her mistress would find her again.

With a puff of steam from her late night snack, she set out. The steam wafted up to her face, creating a barrier from the intrusive cold. The smell made her stomach growl. Giving into impatience, she gathered a herd of noodles and devoured them, the sound of her slurps echoing in between the streets of the empty neighborhood.

After a while, she finished with a satisfied sigh and headed towards a trash can in a nearby park. As she walked, the sky around her gave way to dawn- dark ready to return to light. The sun was not out yet, but its presence was already known. In the distance, the sounds of Seoul preparing for a new day entered her ear. A glance at her watch revealed that it was nearly 5 A.M. 

By now, she was feeling better, the terrors of the night long gone.

Deeming it safe, she sat on a nearby bench, giving her tired legs a rest. With a sigh, she glanced at the scenery around her. Not only could she feel it, she could see it, too. Autumn was preparing to leave. The remains of her red, orange, and yellow attire were strewn across the earth. Winter had nearly settled in his place. His signature white frost had found its way to some of the plants around her. Her gaze landed on a nearby tree, its body almost stripped naked save for a few perverse leaves.

A gust of wind swept through the air, ruffling strands of her hair and the last few leaves from the tree. They danced for a short while, swirling in a frenzied tango, before landing just beyond her feet. She studied them.

They still held the smallest streak of green, like a stubbornness unwilling to give over to the impending winter. The leaves did not seem angry about their new home, though. Instead, they stayed still, occasionally drifting one way or the other from the wind, as if trying to grow accustomed to their new host. They looked picturesque, a perfect memorial of autumn.

A flash of anger consumed her. Her face contorted into an expression of hatred. Eventually, these leaves would be buried under the snow of winter, fall long forgotten. They would all wither away, one way or another. Unremembered. Lost. Forgotten.

Suddenly, the changing of the season did not appeal to her. Her eyes roamed desperately around the park trying to retain some of the beauty she had seen before. But, it was too late. All she could see now was the taint of death. Autumn was not leaving on her own accord. She had been murdered by Winter. 

A pang of distress arose from her throat. Oh no, she thought, Oh no, please not now. But, again, it was too late. Her mistress had found her once again. Hello darling, it sang. 

No. No. No.  

With a jolt, she jumped out of her seat on the park bench and ran away hurriedly. As she seethed in rage and fear, she wondered if she, too, would share the same fate of those leaves.

Unremembered. Lost. Forgotten.   

Before she left, she made sure to crush the leaves under feet.