[✔] lightbulb » lee taeyong & na jaemin

ch. 31

nebulochaotic: a state of being lazy and confused 

» author's pov // 10 years ago »

"darling? darling, wake up," a voice whispered hurriedly, anxiety laced in their voice.

"who...?" ten—almost eleven—year-old ara flinched, rubbing her eyes. the figure above her was blurry, and she just had a short nightmare. it was a love story at first: beauty and the beast. but she soon learned that the beast was truly a beast, and she would never get her happy ending.

"darling," the man who was shaking her shoulder repeated, this time impatient. she snapped her eyes open and burst out laughing at the situation, but not before the man covered her mouth.

"shhh!" her father whispered. "don't laugh."

she giggled. "daddy, what are you doing up right now? it's not morning yet! it's midnight! did you mess up the time?" she poked her dad on the nose affectionately.

her father gave her a strained smile.

"i love you, ara, baby, you know that? you're my favorite child." he stroked her hair. his eyes seemed strangely teary, but ara assumed it was just her eyes playing tricks on her since it was dark.

"but i'm your only child!" she laughed, though making sure to keep quiet. "love you, too, daddy!" she added quickly. she frowned a bit. "but why are you here? where's mommy? usually mommy wakes me up to cry, sometimes."

he stiffened. "listen, honey, i'm leaving, okay?" he kissed her on the forehead.

"okay, see you tomorrow, daddy!" she leaned her head up to kiss his cheek.

he smiled, but even ara could see that it was forced. "i love you."

he shut the door before she could respond. quickly, she fell back into a deep sleep.

——

ara woke up to the muffled cries of her mother. she shot out of bed, glancing at the time and seeing that it was eight in the morning—the time her mother usually woke up.

"mommy? mommy?" ara called frantically, about to enter the living room where her mom was.

she ran into the room and stopped right in her tracks.

"mommy...?" she cried. "what's wrong? what's wrong?"

"your father..." her mom growled, sounding the opposite to the tears running down her face, "...left us."

ara dropped onto her knees. she had never knew heartbreak, not really, but it hit her now. it felt like a piece of her as ripped out, and she felt as if the other parts of her had shriveled up and died.

it was also her lesson to never trust a man.

"why?!" she cried, running over to her mom. she climbed into her lap, hugging her mom tight. all she could feel were bones and sharp edges. "why?!"

her mom sighed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "i'm sorry, that's private..." she murmured.

ara just cried harder. "he said goodbye to me last night! he said he was leaving, but i though only for the night!" she pounded her mom, quickly stopping after feeling her mom's sharp collarbone. sobbing, she pressed her face into her mom's neck, searching for the comfort she desperately needed and wanted to give.

the two simply just hugged and cried. it was a bond that would never die; a bond between a mother and a daughter that had lost a third of the family they were.

——

in the middle of the night, ara snuck into her mother's room. despite always having to sleep in her own room, the house felt empty without her father. she was just about to climb into her mother's bed when she noticed that the letter that her father left behind was on the desk.

she tiptoed over, grabbing the letter and unfolding it.

to my wife,

please forget about me. i'm sorry, but i couldn't handle your anorexia and depression anymore. it was too much for me to handle. maybe, if you get yourself fixed, i'll come back.

i notice that ara is showing the same symptoms as you. anorexia is genetary, after all. i wouldn't be able to handle a broken daughter, as well. so i'm leaving now.

i did truly love the two of you. i've already taken all my money from the bank, but i'm sure you'll do fine on your own. i'll send a check every month to help support ara. every other legal thing, email my lawyer xxxxxxxxxx@xxxx.com.

i'm sorry if i hurt you,

your husband.

ara read enough books to know what anorexia and depression were. and she knew her father had betrayed her mom; betrayed the whole idea of marriage and a family and forever. so she did the smart thing.

she tore up the letter and flushed it down the toilet.

"never trust a man," she muttered as if it were a mantra, "never trust a man. a man will be my downfall."

little did she know, many years later, she would find herself to be correct.