Chapter 10
I returned home soon after the ordeal, and was met with a blithering barrage of scolding, beratement and frustration. Eun Seo was furious, as always.
“The Suneung is in two days time, and you’re spending your time playing hooky? What is wrong with you? Have you lost your mind?” she managed through mouthfuls of spittle spraying from her lips.
She continued relentlessly, and I received it with silence. There was no purpose for reply; nothing to say, nothing to gain. Steadily, she deflated, and the onslaught thinned to a slow trickle. I breathed relief. These episodes were always a test of my endurance.
“I called Dae Joon.”
She called Dae Joon again? He doesn’t have time for me, why would she do that? Nobody has time for me.
“He said that this was the last straw. I—I’m sorry, Kee Jin. But, Jun Soo and I—we can’t handle it anymore. We’re not strong enough.”
What does she mean? Eun Seo was just yelling at me 30 seconds ago. It was a normal conflict. It happened all the time. It was normal.
“Dae Joon said you’re going back.”
No. No, it can’t be. No. I refuse. It’s not possible. No. I am not going back to that horrible place. I can’t. I won’t.
“You stay here for three more days so you can finish the Suneung. Then Dae Joon will come to pick you up.”
Three days? What was Dae Joon doing to me? Why? Why? Confusion and denial were replaced with an ember. The ember grew to a flame, and the flame to a roaring blaze. I lifted one of Eun Seo’s precious porcelain tea cups from the table and hurled it at the wall. I watched it travel, spinning violently as it approached its destination. It met its target and shattered into millions of tiny shards, veiling the floor in a spray of white, pure porcelain. I left to my room and locked the door behind me. I toppled onto my mattress and exhaustion coaxed my eyelids shut. And so I slept.
That night, I dreamt of Mom. It was the first time I had done so in my entire life. She had gotten sick when I was a baby. All I ever knew about her stemmed from stories Father told me and old pictures that he had kept in an album beside the bed. Tall, beautiful and laced with happiness. That’s how Dad described her to me. It was the image I had borne within myself for the entirety of my childhood. I had grasped it tightly, fearful of its potential to disappear, much as she did.
It began with an implosion of dazzling orange and red hues. The sky was painted with thick lines of pink and orange, and the land was splattered with shades of red and mottled green. Nothing else existed. It was me, and it was the painting around me. I watched as imperceivable brushes colored the progress of the fiery sun before me. It progressed quickly, far faster than any day on Earth, and soon the tendrils protruding from its pulsing edges drew near to the border between land and sky. Inch by inch, the ball disappeared behind the impatient horizon. At that moment, my emotionless state was broken as the colors began to fade. The brushes were becoming more aggressive, painting lines of thick darkness, and leaving streaks of bloody red. Their agitation and fury were projected with unrelenting force upon the landscape, becoming tangible masses of terror. The world was becoming a darker place, and fear began to invade my consciousness.
Then, Mom came. First, I saw her hands—her delicate and deliberate hands. I saw as she was not there, and then was. And it was normal. She appeared from thin air, and it did not bother me in the least, because she was meant to be there. She was telling me something. I could see her lips moving, telling me what I needed to know. It was to no avail. I heard nothing. I tried to tell her this, but she had completed her message and had turned to face the receding sun. I watched on as its upper edge grew ever closer to its destination. Closer and closer it became, when it stopped. And then the sun began to rise. I gazed in awe as Mom held a paintbrush in her hands. The colors returned in dazzling flourishes, and my fear was replaced with warmth. Still with her back turned, I noticed a hint of a smile tug at the corner of Mom’s mouth. She disappeared without a further word. I knew what she had told me earlier. It was all she ever needed to do, and it was all I would ever require. She told me she loved me.
My dream was concluded shortly after this realization by my irreverent alarm. I packed my things, consumed a hastened breakfast and departed for school. No further preparations were necessary before tomorrow, save for the time sync. There would be no point in aggravating Eun Seo further. Not after what she did yesterday. I had entertained the possibility of it many times before. My residency with Eun Seo and Jun Soo had been my longest yet among foster parents. They did not matter to me, and it did not matter if I left them. At least, that’s what I told myself those many times I contemplated the consequences of my relationship with them. My forced separation from Eun Seo and her home was bothering me more than I cared to admit. Why would Dae Joon do something like this to me? He knew what that orphanage was like.
For the most part, school passed without consequence. As per the norm, several children experienced nervous breakdowns in the face of the upcoming Suneung. It pained me to witness their intense suffering, but my efforts for their aid were coming. Patience. I trudged through the school’s halls during lunch break. I hadn’t been hungry. I took it all in. Everything was going to change, me included. It scared me, and it twisted my insides into a writhing mass of discomfort. I remained true to what Father taught me, however. I was steadfast. I am steadfast.
I returned home upon the bus, and promptly began the time sync procedures together with the various contracted PC rooms upon the forums. Simultaneous action would make or break tomorrow’s endeavor. There could be no room for error, and I made sure this was impressed upon the others. They asked no questions. Everything was set.
The Mutable World Page 10