The Fear I Loved

(ACT 2)

It never occurred to Junho that the dark and uneven road would be his inevitable fate.

After the terrible news of Eva's death, the piles of empty bottles have almost surmounted into a mountain. There were broken pieces of bottles and kitchenware strewn across the floor. He'd often cut himself by accident from trying to pick them up, but the wound felt numb. So instead of cleaning it up, he just left the broken pieces in the corner.

'Why? Why?! Why is this happening to me?'

Business wasn't going too well and neither did he feel any remaining passion in helping people recover.

It was too late.

He couldn't attend the burial of his sick wife, as she was already put down to rest. He spent hours leaning on her grave, even as rain poured down heavily on earth. He didn't care at all. The passing hours felt like minutes. He didn't care if his stomach rumbled in hunger or if his parched lips desired water.

'Why did you have to leave me so early? Why did you have to go? Haven't I done everything to make you feel better?'

He couldn't feel remorse for anyone. He turned away his regular patients and neighbors, even those who simply just wanted to greet him. News spread like wildfire and no one has gotten the chance to bring Junho out of his misery.

He casts his chauffeur off, that he wants to be alone.

'Get out! I don't want to see your face here anymore!'

The poor old man tried every approach and reason to stay.

'But sir—'

He didn't want to leave the pitiful old doctor to rot by himself. He knows that the doctor needs help.

'And bring the goddamn horse with you!'

One night, Junho sat on the chair of his study table, with a recently lit cigarette and black coffee at hand. The cigarette fumes stuck on the glass windows and walls, painting the wooden surface black.

His study table, which was usually situated in a cozy corner, attracted shadows of the night. Lighting a candle would remind him of the late nights studying his mind off — especially when his wife watches him from the bed.

She was always fascinated by his hardworking attitude. Sometimes, she pulled off mischievous tricks to remind him to rest.

He'd often think about the professor's words.

Where would he even begin to find that last bit of hope? Did anyone else have the answers to that desperate question?

Plagued by the darkening thoughts, Junho sets off from his home with whatever belongings and necessities he has left. He left that warm house, surrounded by the vast expanse of green garden, up in flames.

He watched it burn.

He observed it all from a distance, hidden in plain sight amongst the tall trees. He watched the people, his old recovered patients, and friendly neighbors try to save his home. Their efforts built together to create harmony, to stop the fire from massing altogether, but their screams and shouts creating havoc did little to save the house.

'Faster! The house will collapse!'

'Junho! Mr. Junho! Are you inside?!'

'Please get out!'

'Get some more water!'

It was strangely amusing to him as the scene unfolded.

After all that time and effort, it became useless until nothing was left but black tar and ashes. The wind carried the ashes into the distance. No one could gather the pieces back. All the hard work that was pieced together to build that house was gone in a matter of minutes.

It was declared that Junho died in the house, alongside his valuable belongings.

His soul had died the moment Eva took her last breath.

He turns around, leaving his forsaken home. So, onwards he set his journey to nowhere, with no specific destination in mind. He walked further into the woods, far away from his home.

Junho stayed in several inns, drowning his thoughts in drinks and strange company. The temptation, ecstasy, and adrenaline betrayed him of his moral beliefs. He had always thought performing black magic, even the idea of its existence, was immoral and inhumane.

The passing days, it lasted him nowhere. The endless routine became a hellish cycle. The growing ache and numbness in his heart created conflict and chaos.

His fruitful time became a waste and the coins in his bag depleted. Eventually, he got kicked out for insufficient funds.

Junho was not needed anywhere else. His face and reputation became unrecognizable. The skills he gathered over the years became rustic and it did not save him any money.

He strayed far from the busiest town to the most secluded bare land. He had only enough water and food to last him a couple of days, but that was it at its best.

At one point, he wound up lost.

Surrounded by bare land of brown and white ground, dry hot air, and no town in sight, Junho eventually collapses from exhaustion. He had been walking for hours without rest. His limbs and body were aching, screaming for help. Despair and desire for death couldn't come any faster.

His body was rotting from the inside out. His organs were slowly shutting down, eating whatever fat was stored in the body to stay alive. His nervous system was begging for him to find shelter, to find resources, to find food.

The darkness clouds over his eyes. Dread curls over his body. No amount of pressure or pleading words could change his mind.

He accepts his fate, a slow death ravaging every inch of his once-healthy body.

Until a sweetened metallic liquid breathes life back into his body.