𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐒 [𝐓.𝐊]

Chapter 67

Ubi Culpa, Ibi Timor

Where There's Guilt, There's Fear

Oliver stopped himself from taking a deep breath or moving at all. He didn't even allow himself to look at him, he simply looked ahead at the crying garden lit up with gray tones and sent a silent, grateful prayer for having the sudden idea of taking them here to speak. And continued on.

- For how long has your back been hurting? Mine started seven years ago. –

- About... seven years ago as well, I think. Well, I've had it forever, but it got worse when I was fourteen. –

So young to have things so heavy on his shoulders.

- Do you think it was your school bag? Always filled with heavy stuff? –

- Yeah. – He sighed. – But it wasn't only a school bag, it was more of a bag for everything. I'm still using the same one today. –

A "bag for everything" could mean that his pain was generated by more than just that. This makes sense because, if it was only a "school bag" then the pain would've been gone when he graduated, but it didn't, that's why he says he's still "using it".

- Sturdy? – Hard to take off?

- Yeah. - A beat of silence. Then he added, - What about yours? Or was it just age? –

- Maybe. But I think it was all those boxes I had to carry from my house to a truck and then again. –

- From when you moved here? –

- Oh no, I got here twenty-five years ago. These boxes had my son's stuff in them. – He had to stop... to swallow and take a breath.

- Jack. –

Oliver nodded, remembering that he had mentioned him to Jungkook before.

- Yes. – But he hadn't told him what happened.

- I didn't know he was old enough to move out. –

- ...he wasn't. – Oliver whispered.

In Oliver's eyes, in a loving father's eyes, their kids will never be "ready" to be gone.

And Jungkook's silence was too understanding for his liking.

The fact that his mind would've gone to the saddest outcome in an instant was somewhat worrying.

- ...A lot of heavy boxes, I take it. – Jungkook muttered, his voice gentle with grief.

- Yes, many. – Oliver swallowed again. – And yours? Were your boxes heavy when you moved here? –

- Not at all. I didn't even bring them; my parents decided to send them here before I arrived. But they're all here. I unpacked it all that first day, organized it so it would look good and tidy, and threw all the cardboard away, knowing all that stuff was staying where it was. –

Oliver frowned a little, trying to discern the reality from the metaphors they've been using. But maybe, even if it had all happened as he said, it could also be a metaphor for something deeper.

The fact that his parents sent his boxes for him could mean that he never had even a chance to start anew in this place. It could also mean his parents "control" his pain. Then the unpacking doesn't necessarily have to mean that he talked it out, not when he then said he organized it so it would look good and tidy. No, he organized everything so it would look like there's nothing wrong, like there's no pain, like there aren't boxes weighing on him because he had tossed the cardboard out and stayed with the stuff that was in them. And because it's his room, is also a metaphor for his heart; that he kept it all good and tidy so he himself wouldn't notice the pain in it.