"I knocked on Heaven's door for two minutes," the boy said. "How is that not cool to you?"
*****
Choi Sangwoo was just trying to make ends meet. Beaten and abus...
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February 7, 2019:
"Tell me if it's true, Mum!" he sobbed, looking toward the sky and then the tombstone. "TELL ME!"
Nothing.
Sangwoo angrily punched the ground, not caring that it hurt his knuckles. "Why couldn't you tell me you'd been-" he swallowed harshly, determined to get the words out, "--that you'd been going through all that?"
He gripped the headstone for support. It felt like his carefully constructed sense of normalcy was collapsing.
But how could it have survived when it was built on a faulty foundation?
"Get up, son."
"What is it with you whispering in my ear every time I'm down?"
"I'm your mother, kiddo."
"Why aren't you here, then?" Sangwoo cried. "By my side?"
There was no response to this question, but he already knew the answer, even if he didn't want to admit it.
She couldn't have left. She didn't have the courage to.
But how could she have the courage to do that then?
"Answer me, please..." he said in between ragged breaths. "I need to hear it from you, Mum."
"Look for the answer within yourself, my child."
He exhaled, trying to breathe normally. "I don't want another lecture. The previous one landed me in a toxic relationship. I don't want to do this again."
Why did it always feel like he was stuck in a never ending loop of negativity? First his mother. Then his father, and now one of the very few friendships he had. It was as if his life was one big sobfest, perfectly designed for America's Got Talent.
Why was it like this?
It was tiring to go through the emotional wringer all the time, not to mention annoying. He felt as though he thought about his problems too much.
But was it better to ignore them?
Because he knew this day would come. Sangwoo knew he would screw up again-that everyone he held dear would leave him again; that he would be all alone again. It had become a habit at this point.
It was too cold.
His breaths got shorter, and he sat against the headstone.
The sky seemed too small all of a sudden. Everything was closing in. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to regain control over his breathing.
It couldn't happen now. He had to go back to practice; he had to become an idol. It was the only way out.
"I'm getting kind of tired of having to rescue you, boy. It's the second time I've seen you like this."
