To My Dearest Roseanne

Chapter 37

The moment the van pulled over on the Jagiellonow Roundabout, Cho jumped out of the back completely disregarding the driver, who sat there gobsmacked that some creature rose from the stack of blankets and escaped in a flash.

Cho immediately rushed down the steps to an underground passage for passers-by. It was a tunnel with four different exits, divided into two corridors that were separated by rows of small-time shops and cafeterias. As Cho was running through the tunnel, the whole construction trembled because of trams passing on the busy crossing right above.

Once on the other side, Cho climbed a new set of stairs. In consequence, she found herself on the opposite side of the roundabout. Thankfully, nobody was chasing her.

On her last leg, she reached the bus station. As luck would have it, she caught the last course to Squidburb leaving at 10 pm. Before boarding, however, she had to have a good vomit in the bushes.

Her stomach was already empty, so what came out was mostly saliva and a bit of digestive juice. A violent convulsion shook her torso. Her throat was burning. Her lungs were hungry for air. Each muscle in her body began aching, as if she had run a marathon. When Cho touched her face, a large piece of skin detached, exposing a bloodied wound. She knew she didn't have much time left.

"One normal ticket to Mierzwin, please."

"Coming right up, baby!"

En route to Mierzwin, she curled on the seat and looked out the window into passing darkness. People living in their houses by the road were tucked to sleep by the stillness of the night. Occasionally, a tired spouse would take a dog for a walk, or an insomniac would make their way to a convenience store. Cho, on the other hand, usually spent her Korean nights either reading or looking outside her window at an empty street or starlit sky. She couldn't believe she had to come back to her old habits again. That is if she manages to come through and survive, of course.

The bus stopped at Mierzwin at 10:45 pm. Cho was the last passenger on the bus. As she was getting off, her feet slid from the steps and knees hit the ground with a loud crackle.

"Are you alright there, missy?" asked Mr Fantastic, nearly getting up from behind the wheel.

"Yes, I'm fine thanks," Cho wheezed out in a hurry. She got up demonstratively.

Mr Fantastic shut the door with the touch of a button and drove away.

Cho fell on the ground again as the stop lights of the bus were getting smaller and smaller in the distance.

***

The electrical supply line wasn't visible in the dark fields. Cho crawled through the tall grass, hoping she was moving more or less in the right direction. Her only point of reference was the bus stop by the road, which was the only thing luminated by a lamp post in the entire area.

Each muscle of hers was aching painstakingly as if she were beaten to a pulp in a boxing match. Her bladder was full, although she didn't want to pee, and her stomach was readying up for another cycle of regurgitations without returning anything. Her face and hands looked like a red, ragged carpet. The skin was scraped beyond recognition.

Cho knew her body was on the brink of giving up, but she pressed on nonetheless. She didn't want to die. Her life might have been miserable, filled with heartless suffering and sorrow, but even she struggled with one of man's greatest adversaries: the fear of death. It was instilled in her with fervent passion. Aware of her mortality, little Cho would wake up in the middle of the night from an adrenaline rush. Someday, oh, yes, most certainly some day, she will cease to exist, and the moment that happens will not be peaceful or dignified. No, it will never be peaceful or dignified, in contrast to what they write on social media or show in the movies. Just look at her right now.

Back when she was scared, the consolation came in the form of books, heaps of them. The only, readily available way of escapism from the bleak reality surrounding her and the inevitably creeping thought of dying.

But all of that happened before she met Roseanne.

Now, Cho was in so much pain that her brain just wanted to seize the only opportunity available to stop it.

But that meant leaving Roseanne.

Finally, she reached one of the power supply poles. The girl was too weak to climb the damaged structure, so just leaned her back against the metallic base and looked up at the stars.

Cho felt like the universe's punching bag. It gave her a purpose to live, a purpose to be happy, but it took this away from her when she started enjoying it.

This is the greatest tragedy of life, Cho thought, just as when you appreciate something, you lose it. It always happens like that. The universe never laughs with you, it laughs at you and your stupid tendency to make attachments. The primal matters comprising stars, planets, nebulas, galaxies, voids, and black holes don't care about you and what you cling to. The universe will keep on laughing hysterically at you, long after you're gone.

But she felt grateful for the past few weeks she had.

"I'm really gonna miss you, Rosie," said Cho.

A brownish tear came down her cheek and froze at the corner of her mouth. Cho closed her eyes. Her curled corpus was caressed by the night wind along with the tall grass that was forming swirling waves across the plain field.