Before Autumn, After Spring By BBAgon

Chapter 1: Overly Melodramatic

It was properly raining. Properly. As in deep puddles on the pavement, drenched trousers and soaked shoes. No lightning, no thunder, just a steady shower of rain that didn't seem to have the slightest intent on stopping. So steady and monotonous, water droplets bombarding the pavement in choreographed succession, completely coded and robotic. Endless. There was no irregularity whatsoever. Any ambient sounds were swallowed and digested into a singular hum. Cars and motorcycles went by, people caught in the downpour hurrying to their destinations. Footsteps, engine sounds, tire streaks and sirens. And yet to Seola's ears were none of these. Just rain and her phone on vibrate, buzzing nonstop in her back pocket for the past three hours.

A sudden gush of autumn wind blew against her and the drop in temperature made her shiver. With it the rustic smell of leaves and grass, plus the usual hints of carbon monoxide and stale cigarette smoke. The wind that day was colder than usual, icy in some instances. Autumn was only beginning but the continuous rain and lack of sun made almost every day drearily cloudy and cold, slow and melancholic, exactly what she would prefer all year...

Except for today, in her current situation, with this tragedy hanging over her that she has yet accepted or addressed.. or even acknowledged. The gods were clearly mocking her, if they even exist. In this case she found herself confused as to what to believe. Such a coincidence, or fate some call it, could only be by the hand of someone with too much power and too much time. God? Maybe. Or a small delinquent child playing a game of monopoly with mankind as the pieces in play. Her phone vibrated again. She continued to ignore it. She wondered which piece was she. The usually sought after race car? The children's favourite, the dog? The cold hard reality, as it was unapologetically revealed to her today, is that she was the thimble. A piece that children nowadays have no idea what it is, what it's for, a leftover piece for those who were late to the game and even dropped by the company themselves several times because of its so called 'outdated relevancy'.

Truly, she was being overly melodramatic. Definitely on brand. The sudden self-realization puts her in a brief fit of giggles. This overwhelming wash of melancholia and depressive pessimism was exactly what she had imagined her reaction to be in these circumstances. She let out a little laugh, sighed and smiled defeatedly. She had decided on the way back that she would address it as soon as the rain ceased, in the meantime she would remain at this bus stop, totally disconnected and in denial. She looked up to the grey-ish sky above her and laughed at the idea. The clouds were thick and immovable. The air was wet and rainfall was constant and incessant. The weather forecast predicted an all-day downpour. Nature wasn't in the mood to baby her this time. She had to grow up. And that meant going home and facing the music.

...

As the door handle twisted clockwise with an electronic beep, Seola expected a wall of anxious girls waiting for her in the living room, with arms crossed and foreheads wrinkled. Cats with their claws engaged, ready to pounce on her, like a pack of lions on a lone vulnerable gazelle. She prepared herself for a gory spectacle fit for National Geographic. Instead, as she timidly made her way around the corner and into the main area, only two people were present. Two cats. The odds were getting better. Both were looking straight at her, one was sitting on the sofa and another standing stiffly upright with arms clenched menacingly at the waist. Both of them were shooting lasers from their eyes. The heat radiated from those beams of anger and judgement, could be felt on the surface of her cold wet skin. Any minute longer and she would've quickly dematerialize into a pile of radioactive goo.

She found herself frozen in place, despite being the oldest in the room. It's always humiliating, to some degree, whenever the tables were turned like this and she becomes the sloppy-ish immature younger and the others, especially Eunseo, as the put-together older. Admittingly, she never was the model-oldest-sibling material anyway. So much so that a particular nickname stuck on her like a label. 'Maknae katteun Madunnie' the 'youngest-like oldest sister'. Fitting. Exactly the picture being painted right then in that very living room. She was about to get scolded. Grounded. And sent up without supper. Except this time it's different. She wasn't in the mood to play the sibling game.