Mission Tale III: The Recalling Of Detriment

Frisk: Goemul

TW!: Mentions of @ buse, & R*pe

If you feel as if you can't read this chapter, it is completely okay! This chapter is not necessarily important to the storyline but it does go in depth and detail into Frisk's life before Sans, if you feel like you can't read this chapter, feel free to read the next chapter of the story! I love you all you strong beings and if you have been through anything like this I am so sorry that you have every had to go through this as no one deserves to go through such a experience, you are so strong and I hope that things are/ or will get better! 🤍

And also this is a long sad chapter so strap in! </3

Song Jae-Sung,

The name in my language means to be true and sincere. . . but what he really any of those at all?

It all started when I was born. . my mother unfortunately passed from childbirth. Leaving me and my devastated father behind and against the world

At first, he would just silently take care of me. Feed me, change my diaper, do all the things the parent would usually do for their baby. It was just that with him, it felt like as if he never wanted to do any of those things with me. 

When I was about 2 or 3, or when I started to walk and talk, he wouldn't bother to even look in my direction. In Korea, I tried making friends with the other kids, but they would always run away from me, because of my dad, who was staring at all of us with nothing but pure anger in his dark eyes. 

After a while, it was as if he just suddenly stopped. He didn't help me with anything I needed help with. . I had a babysitter who helped me learn the basic things that he didn't teach me. . she taught me how to eat, use the bathroom, do my own hair, talk, everything I really needed to know. An elderly babysitter who was the sweetest woman you could ever meet, but unfortunately died to the the horrible disease of cancer. . leaving me along with him.

Once I was 4, things got worse. We moved to America in hopes that our lives would be more free and sustainable. Unfortunately, he just started to drink. A lot. So much that he would miss off of his business job just to drink and cry in our living room. It became bad, to the point that he lost his job. He was devastated. And instead of being responsible. . like going to get himself together for his own child. He just drank. . our bills remaining unpaid, he just started to be concerned about it once the TV went out as he yelled at me, wanting a four year old child to fix the electrical cable that had words on it that I could barely understand. 

It was only when he came over and realized that the bill was out, he started to fuss and argue with his own self to figure out on what he was going to do with getting a job to fix his TV. 

Then he came up with an idea.

At first, he would let me leave out of the house, to live with his American friends, they seemed nice. They let us stay at their home, eat meals, have new clothes and my father was able to drink his soul out with his friend while I played with some toys that his friend brought me. 

It was a whole year later, as it was days after my birthday. His friend wanted him to give him something in exchange for him giving us a place to stay. I heard the whole argument. Not understanding a single word that was said before a heard a loud smack, making me jump from the sudden noise, the friend smacked him hard, making him fall onto the floor. A few hours later we were then out of his house. His friend apologized to me before we left, saying small things that I couldn't understand before we left out with only our clothes and a few bags of dry foo. And would you guess what the father of the year told me? Ding ding ding! He just blamed me and we moved onto the next home.