His Last Song- "Ji'de Tas Anse"

Chapter One 1.2

12:45 pm, 2021/5/16

"Uta," Song Byeong-ho says as he shakes me awake. "Uta-ﻃَﺎﺋِﺮ."

I groan then I wrap my blanket over my head more.

He pulls my blanket from over my head then he pats my cheek, "We'll need all five hours of daylight to gather your food. We want to gather at least a year's-worth."

"And extra for my grandparents."

"We're gathering just for you," he says as I sit up.

"Right," I say. "When I find my grandparents, we can gather food together."

"Sure," he says as he stands up. "Get dressed or whatever. I'll be waiting by the front door."

"Mm-hm," I hum as he leaves the room, and he puts his mask on.

He closes the door then I get into my wheelchair. I go over to my dresser and get out a long sleeve black shirt and blue sweatpants, which I change into. I go into another drawer of my dresser then I get out a puffy green jacket. I put the jacket on, then I blow out the candle on my dresser.

I leave my room after grabbing the recorder and turning it on, then I see Song Byeong-ho by the door with his bat. He puts his hat on as he looks at me then he gestures to my medication and my water bottle.

"You'll need to take that, right?"

"Yeah," I say as I go over to the coffee table.

I take my pills then I put my mask on as I go back over to the front door.

"Do you have a backpack or a large bag?"

"There's baskets over by the store that I went to yesterday," I say as I open my front door and start to walk out, yet he pulls me back by my hood.

"Do you not check before you go places?" He asks as he looks around the corner. "The animals could get into the apartment building at night."

"They haven't gotten in before," I say as I leave the apartment.

He sighs as he follows me out of the apartment, then he closes the door.

"You are living completely off of chance," he says as we walk to the elevator. "You're living so carelessly, yet you're alive."

"I'm being protected."

"By what?"

"Yamo," I say. "Or "God"."

He presses the first-floor button, "Ah..."

"You don't believe in Yamo?"

"I don't know," he mumbles with a shrug. "There either is no Yamo or he doesn't like me."

I look at him with furrowed eyebrows, and after he sees my face, he does the same.

"What?"

"Yamo loves everyone. And Yamo is very much real."

"Maybe... But I've had...quite a life, though. I do believe in Yamo; I mean, how else would we be here? But I don't agree with some of the things "Yamo" teaches, if they're really even what Yamo teaches. I don't agree with a lot of the religion surrounding Yamo. I'm more of a spiritual person, not a religious one," he says. "I didn't mean Yamo isn't real...I meant that good isn't real."

"That's the same thing..."

"Well, I don't mean it as the same thing."

"But–"

"Evil outweighs a lot of the good in this world. Outweighs it so much it's almost as if good isn't real. You can't deny it. Just remember how this world used to be. So many laws on our bodies and our lives. So many laws against the colors of our skins and where we were raised and how we think. Murders and rapists were able to get away with so much and were given so much power. Victims were made into suspects and villains. So many filled with power lust and greed. Every day, people were dying—and not from natural causes. Well, you could call them natural causes since they became the norm..." —he looks at me— "I believe that Yamo exists, but that doesn't mean that I think evil doesn't, and doesn't mean that I think evil doesn't fill the world."