The Afterlife

15) To Love, to Learn, to Live

Paradise Grove never looked different, except on occasions like this.

The sun was almost setting when all of the world's flowers sought alternative lights from the insides of the hospital, and even after seven long years, the walls themselves remembered the name of the child they lost.

And so they spoke of it, lights hanging from every inch of the entrance, glowing in contrast to the dark of the night, and when the doors sled on their own, making way for all those who meant to pay their respect and prayer, it was like a whole new world opened beyond them.

Paradise Grove looked specially different this night, decorated with all sorts of green and blue, all sorts of white and pink, all sorts of love, and an equal amount of pain.

All the way from the entrance and to where the desk that used to be Sihyeon's sat, flowers guided way and made path for those who meant to share their sorries. The floor was covered in parallel lines with enough space in between for people to walk, and the walls from around those who did walk shone with pictures of the young girl in each of her few years.

All the way, from the first step into the building to the huge table that sat, waiting, at the door of what used to be Park Aera's room, the faint instrumental melody of the kid's favorite movie played, painting the walls of the hospital with even more longing and even more grief.

It was beautiful, all of it, but the kind of beauty that was sore for the eyes, a kind of beauty that was hard to look away from, but too painful to stare back at all the same.

When everyone sat around the table outside the room, only one person had the heart to go in and drown in the familiarity of the room.

Park Jimin did not hold his tears because he could, or because he wanted to, but simply because they had dried; too often did he cry in fear of this day that he stood with the fret and pain silently, watching over the room he had vowed to bid farewell one day with his kid, healthy and happy, in his hands.

Park Jimin did not cry, but he was left alone inside the room, holding the little toy his kid loved the most and lying in the bed she often was stuck to.

There were countless times when Aera had asked him if she was ready to leave, if the day she would get to go back home for good can be soon, and what hurt him the most then was that she never got to do any of it.

She did not get to seek the numberless jobs she had in mind, nor did she have the time to watch all the movies they had kept in stock to watch together when she would come home. She did not get to cuddle her little sister in the comfort of their bed, and that was far worse than all of them combined.

Jimin knew how badly Yeona was hurting too, and it was perhaps the very reason why he could not look in her eyes since the day started. After all, he was one to bring Aera before Jaewook in the airport that day seven years ago.

At some point, Jimin managed to stop blaming Naeun, but the world kept turning and it left his heart no place to dwell on but blaming himself. If he wanted to live, he had to blame someone, and if he wanted to live with the love of his life, he had to blame himself.

The urges were manifold, but mostly, Jimin wished he could just talk to his daughter again. He wanted to hug her, he wanted to kiss her, he wanted to cuddle her, but fatally, he wanted to talk to her.

He wanted to listen to her talk about what burdened her, about what pained her, about her needs. He always loved how she expressed herself, and how she fought the world whole, but when it came to him, she always spoke mindlessly because safety was her father and safety was all she needed then.

"You found rest, my dear," he spoke to the stuffed toy, hoping it would convey his message no matter how far away it should travel, "without me, it is, but you found rest all the same.