GAME | PJM

再见

yeonmi sat down on a lone chair and rested her elbow on the table in front of it.

her thinking time was cut short as a beeping sound and a vibration erupted from a denim pocket on her jeans.

INCOMING CALL: MUM

she answered it with a clammy, weak grip.

"hello?"

"yeonmi i need to tell you something but i can't talk for long."

"what is it?" she tried to sound patient.

"i'm leaving. or moving, rather."

"what? wh-why? where-"

"i can't talk for long, for god's sake." her voice was immediately soaked in acid.

"i feel like i need to leave."

"why?" she stopped herself from asking any more questions.

"because i don't belong."

"what do you mean you don't belong?"

"i'm not your mother, yeonmi."

she knew for a fact that her mother, or hwayeon, never joked around.

"then...then who is?"

"...."

"it's the maid, isn't it?"

"yes." she didn't sound the least bit sorry.

"great. thanks."

yeonmi hung up; even though hwayeon would've done the same at the same point in their conversation.

she felt like crying but she was confused as to what feeling or emotion she would be crying in–happiness?
relief?
fear?
idiocy?
confusion?

regardless of the reason behind the drops of hurt, they still tragically fell upon her cheek; so heavily that she was forced to bury her head in her arms as she heaved.

at the same time, a sweaty boy emerged into the room, and once he saw her, he rushed to console her.
and everything would change.