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CHAPTER TWENTY SIX ( In Loving Memory )
JAEHWA AWAKENS TO silence. It has become a recurring theme, the empty halls of the Cha household. A lumbering body, half-dead and half-asleep, Jaehwa drags herself out of her bed, changes into her uniform, and walks the agonizing steps into the kitchen, where there is no one to greet her.
The fridge is a reflective shade of steel blue, void of the old crayon drawings and stick figures of a young dreamer. The present Jaehwa burned them all one crazed night, when the haunting face of someone she once knew mirrored from her retinas to every surface, and her old art projects were given the death penalty.
The girl closes the fridge with less appetite than she first opened it with, squirming in her school uniform. The cold grey skirt and dark maroon jacket feel so off against her skin, as though she is playing a part that she doesn't deserve. Everything seems to grate against her skin, unnerving and hellish.
( With every step, the skin Jaehwa wears begins to slowly tear ).
She sews herself up to the best of her ability, returning the old stuffing back into her flesh, the zipper cold against her skin, and tilts a carnal smile that wilts along the edges, more grimace than anything.
And Jaehwa pictures herself, once blooming like the orchids on the too-cold dinner table, a reflective surface of all she has known. All that remains is what she can say she has; No one.
The gloomy outside greets her when she shuts her door, slinging her brand-new backpack over her shoulders. Her old bag had ripped over its constant use hauling anything from books to food containers back and forth between home and the hospital.
The tilt to her shoulders is gone, a reminder of the months prior. She holds the straps close, tightly, letting the ache of her body linger into the plush material and sink away into the pavement.
Everything is busy. The noise seeps into Jaehwa's head, thumping an ill rhythm against her brain. She slips on her headphones, her gaze trained on the shiny black loafers that seem to crush her toes into shape. One at a time, her feet begin to move; Down the hall, into the elevator, and out of the apartment complex.
The suffocating walls breathe; Jaehwa cannot seem to gather enough air in her lungs to do the same. She holds her breath, fingers tapping erratically against her skirt, until the light flashes and the doors open. She can breathe again.
She looks back at the drab walls and silent units. Part of her wishes that those inside were miserable throughout, just like her. With every hum of the bass ringing in her ears, Jaehwa gets further away from her house. Further away from the silence, further away from the incessant noise, further away from what consumes her.
It takes her half an hour to get to the bus stop. She tucks herself into a corner on the bus bench despite its lack of inhabitants. The morning air is crisp, rippling through Jaehwa's hair with a slight tangle to her dark strands. She doesn't bother pushing her overgrown bangs away from her face.
