MY BRIGHTEST STAR

6

Miss Jiu stood at the front of the classroom, smiling warmly. "Alright, everyone, I have an exciting announcement! Tomorrow is Mother's Day, and in honor of this special day, we’ll be having a poetry competition. This is a chance for each of you to write something from the heart about your mothers, grandmothers, or any mother figure in your life."

The students exchanged excited glances, and the teacher continued, "You can write about anything you like—the things you love about them, your favorite memories, or even what makes them special to you. Be as creative as you want! I can’t wait to hear what you come up with."

A buzz of excitement filled the room, and the students began to chatter eagerly about their ideas for the competition. But Taegguk sat quietly, his gaze dropping to his desk. He didn't have a mother to write about—he had passed away when he was kid. A pang of sadness settled in his chest, and he wondered what he could write for the competition.

But then, he remembered the stories his dad used to tell him about his Appa. He remembered his father’s voice growing soft as he spoke of his Appa's kindness, his laughter, and the way he always knew how to make them both feel loved. Slowly, a small smile formed on his face. He realized that even though his Appa wasn’t with him anymore, he still lived in those memories.

With a new sense of purpose, he picked up his pen and a paper, and rushed towards his favorite place in the school. The children were scattered across the playground during their break, some chatting, others running around. Taegguk  sat alone on the bench underneath the blossom tree, clutching a piece of paper and pen tightly in his hand. The words started to flow. He would write about his Appa as his dad had described him—his warmth, his smile, and the love he left behind for him to carry forward. He knew this was his way of honoring him, and he felt a bittersweet joy as he poured his heart into the poem.

The poem was simple, filled with lines about love, safety, and warmth. It wasn't perfect, but it was from his heart. He missed him even though he never saw him.

As he stared at the paper, lost in his thoughts, one of his classmates, Minho, approached. Minho was a taller boy, brimming with confidence, and although Taegguk didn't know it, Minho had his own insecurities about the competition. The kids had all been asked to write a poem or a letter for their mothers, and Minho was one of the other participants.

Taegguk felt Minho's gaze on him before he heard the sharp voice.

"You're really going to enter that stupid competition?" Minho sneered, crossing his arms over his chest.

Taegguk looked up at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

Minho scoffed. "You're going to write about a mom when you don't even have one? What do you know about mothers? You have no right to compete with the rest of us."

Taegguk's small face flushed with hurt, but he didn't say anything right away. His hands tightened around the paper, his grip white-knuckled.

"You shouldn't even try. You don't belong in this. You're not even a real participant-just a charity case."

"Stop talking, Minho," Taegguk muttered under his breath. He was trying to hold it together, but the words were making his chest ache, the tightness threatening to swallow him whole.

Minho continued. "Everyone knows you're a freak. Your mother left you and your dad... because he's a maniac." He laughed.

The mention of his father was the breaking point.

In an instant, Taegguk's fist flew through the air and connected with Minho's chest, pushing him back. The other kids around them stopped and looked on, some gasping
in surprise, others whispering. Minho
staggered back, stumbling but not falling,
rage flaring in his eyes.