Taste | Changbin

Chapter Sixty-Four

Lennon was mortified, but she couldn't stop the tears from falling. Her whole entire life she had been building up a wall. Brick by brick, one at a time, layer by layer. A brick wall between her and people, between her and the world around her. Within the walls, she was protected.

She kept most of her feelings to herself because that's the way it had always been. There was no taking comfort in others, it wasn't an option, so she let herself drown in her sadness. She busied herself with work and pushed it down. Anxiety bubbled up inside and it only added to her problems.

People could be dangerous. Of course, not everyone was evil and not everyone was out to get her, but her brain was. 

What if? What if? What if? 

What if someone used her feelings against her? 

What if? What if? What if? 

What if people judged her? 

What if? What if? What if?

The questions buzzed around her head like bees. They grew louder and louder until they shattered her ear drums. She couldn't breathe, suffocated by fear and the unknown; it never ended.

When she left her dad in Delaware, she thought she could finally start healing. She thought that would be the end of her misery, but it only seemed to be the beginning. It took her three months before she finally gained the courage to book the plane ticket to South Korea.

She thought she could manage it, she thought she could be happy, but it had only been a nightmare. Talking to people in a new language, finding an apartment, setting up a new phone plan, finding a bank account, even getting a job, it was terrifying. Although she had done it, the dark shadow of her father had been looming behind her. Chained to her ankle, she couldn't shake him off.

When you live your life being told negative things, at some point, your brain starts to believe them. It seeps and soaks up every negative insult. You stop fighting against it. You stop thinking that the insults are no longer a maybe, somewhere among the madness, they become factual.

When it was too quiet, she could hear his voice clearly. Every insult haunted her amidst the silence. She couldn't help it. The words repeated over and over again like a mantra.

Worthless. Bitch. You should have died instead of your mom. Whore. Worthless. Bitch. You should have died instead of your mom. Whore. Worthless. Bitch. You should have died instead of your mom.

She could still smell the lingering bud light on his breath; sour and unforgiving. There was a darkness in his eyes as he spoke. His words stuck with her and he knew it. That's why he said them often. He could never let her forget it.

And the worst part was, somewhere deep inside of her, she thought that maybe he could change. Maybe he'd come to his senses one day. She clung to that little sliver of hope. He'd wake up and realize he needed help. He'd apologize to her one day and break down in tears. An apology for being a shitty father, an apology for not being there, an apology for the insults, and a promise to do better.

With him dead, that would never happen. There would be no chance for a redemption arc. She clung to the hope that he would go back to being the dad that she briefly experienced right after her mother died.

The kind that made her breakfast in the morning and asked how she slept. The type of father that drove her to school and happily sang along with the radio in funny voices. The one that told her to have a good day at school and offered to help her with homework on the weekends.

The type of father that gave her a huge hug that lasted for longer than a few seconds. The one that peeked into her bedroom when he came home late at night just to make sure she was asleep. The one that kissed the top of her head and treated her like she was his whole world.

There would be no redemption arch for Lennon's father. A lot of people don't get redemption arcs. It's a hard pill to swallow, but that's how the world works. Mark Windsor was just one of many.

A draconian reminder that the world isn't fair.