unspoken. | park sunghoon ✓

𝟏𝟔. ( the one with the lilies.)

☂︎

A WEEK LATER,
the door creaked as Sarim stepped into the apartment, her shoulders tense, bracing for what she knew was coming. The familiar smell of cigarettes and stale alcohol filled the air. The TV was blaring in the other room, the volume turned up too high like always. But tonight, everything felt heavier, more suffocating.

It was the anniversary of her mother's death, and that always meant the worst was coming.

Sarim set her bag down slowly, hoping to slip by unnoticed. Maybe she could make it to her room before he saw her. But the moment she stepped into the living room, she heard the clink of a bottle against the table.

"Where have you been?"

"School," she whispered, trying to keep her tone steady. She knew the answer didn't matter. She knew he'd find something to be angry about anyway. But lying would make it worse, and so would silence.

He grunted, finally looking up, his eyes narrowing. "You're lying." His voice was cold, slurring just enough to make her stomach twist. "School doesn't go this late."

Sarim took a small step back, keeping her gaze down, her hands clenched around the strap of her bag. "I was s-studying," she stammered, feeling her throat tighten. "I stayed in the library to finish some homework."

His laugh was bitter, cutting. "Homework? You think I believe that?" He shoved himself off the couch, stumbling as he stood, but his gaze locked onto her with a terrifying focus. "You're just like her, lying through your teeth and acting like you're better than me."

She shook her head, trying to keep her voice calm, to say anything that might keep him from exploding. "Dad, please, I'm not, I just-"

"Shut up!" he shouted, his voice louder than she had heard it all day, and she flinched as he crossed the room in two stumbling steps. His hand shot out, grabbing her shoulder and yanking her close, the sour stench of alcohol thick in his breath. "You think you can just do whatever you want huh?" (yunjin )

Before she could even respond, she saw his hand striking her face with enough force to send her staggering. The sting exploded across her cheek, and she bit back a cry, her fingers pressing to her cheek as she steadied herself. A tear rolled down her cheek.

His face twisted in anger and infuriation. "Pathetic," he spat. "You're just like your mother. Useless, an a burden." His words slurred together, and for a moment, his gaze seemed to blur, like he was seeing someone else entirely. "She left me, and now you're trying to do the same, aren't you?"

She stayed silent, her breaths coming in shallow gasps as she clutched her bag tightly, praying he'd let her go, that he would lose interest in her if she just stayed quiet.

His grip tightened on her shoulder, his fingers digging into her skin hard enough to bruise. "Answer me, you little brat!"

"no, Dad," she whispered, the words barely audible. Her whole body was trembling, her heart pounding in her chest. "I'm not, I'm not leaving. I just went to school, I promise."

For a long moment, he just stared at her, his expression unreadable, and then, finally, he let go, pushing her away with a disgusted grunt. She stumbled back, catching herself against the wall, her heart racing as she fought to keep her breathing steady.

"Get the fuck out of my sight," he muttered, his tone dismissive, and she didn't need to be told twice. She turned, slipping down the hallway to her room, shutting the door quietly behind her. Her cheek throbbed with each beat of her heart, and she sank down on the bed, pressing her hand to the bruised skin, swallowing back the tears.

Sarim didn't hesitate. She couldn't stay here. The walls felt to close, the air too thick and she needed to get out, to breathe. She grabbed her jacket and slipped out the door, the cold air hitting her like a wall. Her cheek still stung, and her arm ached, but she didn't stop. She just kept walking, her legs moving on autopilot, not sure where she was going, just needing to get away.

She ended up at the small flower shop near the corner, the same one she used to visit with her mother every Sunday.

She took out her green and old wallet and bought a bouquet of lilies, with the last of the money she had. It didn't matter. The flowers were for her mother.

Lilies -they were her mother's favorite flowers.

The walk to the cemetery felt longer than usual, the air heavy and cold. Sarim's feet crunched against the cold ground as she made her way to her mother's grave, the familiar stone standing quietly among the others. She knelt down in front of it, placing the flowers at the base. Her fingers traced the name etched into the stone, her chest tightening.

"Mom," she whispered, her voice already starting to crack. "I brought you some flowers. I know they're your favorite."

She sat back on her heels, staring at the grave, her throat tightening with every passing second. "I miss you," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I miss you so much, Mom."

Her words hung in the cold air, unanswered. Her breath hitched as she tried to keep it together, but the tears were already welling up in her eyes. "It's so hard without you. I-I don't know what to do anymore. Everything's a mess."

Her voice shook more now, cracking under the weight of everything she was holding in. "Dad's... he's worse than ever. He's drinking more, he, he hurts me. And I don't know how to stop it."

Her hand trembled as she wiped her eyes, the tears falling faster than she could keep up with. "I- I'm trying, Mom. I'm trying to stay strong like you always told me, but it's so hard. I just feel like I'm breaking inside."

Her breath hitched as a sob escaped her, the weight of it all finally crashing down. "I just wish you were here," she whispered through the tears, her voice raw and shaky. "I need you, Mom. I miss you so so much."

Sarim's body trembled as she hugged her knees to her chest, the tears falling freely now. Her voice was barely audible, broken between sobs. "I don't know how much longer I can do this. I don't know how to keep going."

She sat there for a long time, her tears soaking into the cold ground as she cried into the night. The grave was silent, offering no answers, no comfort. But she kept talking, her words tumbling out through the sobs, telling her mother everything—about school, about her father, about the loneliness that never seemed to leave her.

"I love you," she whispered finally, her voice hoarse and barely a breath. "I wish you were here with me. I don't know what to do without you."

Her hands shook as she stood up, her legs stiff from kneeling so long. The night was cold, and the sky had darkened. She wiped her face again, trying to steady her breathing.

"I'll come back soon," she promised, her voice still shaky. "I love you, Mom."

"I love you too sweetie." Sarim imagined the sweet and gentle voice of her mother.

She turned away from the grave, her heart heavy as she made her way back down the path. The streets were dark and quiet as she walked back to the apartment she and her father lived in, the cold biting her skin.

She didn't want to go home, but there was nowhere else to go. Her father would be waiting, just like always. But for now, all she could do was keep walking, trying to hold herself together as she moved forward, one step at a time.