The End of Hate

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The next morning, your father quickly set off to organize our escape. I was afraid, Joon-Ho, because you can imagine what would happen if someone got wind of our plans... Someone from the people who had succumbed to the hatred and spite...

I decided to act as if everything were normal, at least outwardly. I stepped out of the door in the morning and sat with you in the garden, tending to the plants. Your grandmother was at a neighbor's house again, helping with the canning of some cabbages. I kept thinking about what had happened the previous day.

Deiji's words, which might have been true. The hatred in the people who had tortured and mutilated an innocent man, driven by madness and guided by old stories that seemed to contain a bit too much truth...

When doubts arose about leaving the city with you and your father, I only had to think of Deiji, bleeding out on the floor of her house... Of the weeping figure at the well and the malicious faces of the insane crowd... Of the chants that paid homage to powers from a distant past and... Of you and how you would grow up if we stayed... if you would grow up at all and they didn't take you away one day, for some insane made-up reason...

The weeds began to wither and so did the plants, as I sadly noticed. Over time, a more foul-smelling wind blew from beyond the sea up to us. It reeked of the atrocities and malice that had taken place near the shore below... and were probably still happening. The salty note of the ocean mixed in, almost mocking me.

I angrily stabbed the small trowel I had been using to loosen the soil into the ground, only to stir up dry dust.

"Yes... It's dry... Much too dry... yes, yes..."

I looked up. Su-Ji was standing there, peering over the fence into the garden, nodding sadly to herself. The old woman had silver hair neatly tied into a bun. She wore a traditional hanbok, its once vibrant colors long erased by dirt and time.

"Ah, Su-Ji, how are you? Has it gotten better for you?"

"Oh, child, it's not going so well... my back... you know... And I also have problems with the soil. It's parched. It hasn't rained properly for a while now... And water is running low. They say things are getting terrible down by the sea..."

"I've heard about it. They sacrificed a man..."

"Yes, yes... Terrible... What did it accomplish, other than bring some satisfaction? Nothing... The wells are still poisoned, and even in the surf, this yellowish pus shimmers. Almost like an oil film, but somehow... alive..."

"What? Since when?"

It just wouldn't stop! Why, why couldn't it return to how it used to be?

"I don't know. I heard it from a friend who was down there today. She was completely distraught and disturbed. There have also been problems nearby... It's a calamity... I mean, neighbors often have heated arguments, there have always been acts of violence... But like this? No... They've never behaved like this before. People running through the streets, covered in blood...? There are rumors that even some corpses are lying around, rotting away with nobody caring... Disgusting and eerie..."

With that, she set off and continued up the street to her small shed.

Similar reports were brought by others who moved between the different neighborhoods. From people who worked down by the sea during the day or had family there. Even nearby, there were now isolated cases of individuals acting aggressively and treacherously. I was just happy that most did not ask me about the blood on my clothes I had carried through town earlier.

As the day wore on, the air was finally torn apart by distant screams and gunshots. My guts twisted because your father was down there... I was afraid he wouldn't come back, afraid we'd be alone, and that the malice in the people would seep into us and eventually kill us...

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