Omen - [EDITING]

[ Asphyxia ]

It burns. 

It's suffocating. 

The feeling's unbearable. 

Just to let the simple words out from my mouth seems the mere impossible. I can't wrap my head around the image of my Father being directly right in front of me. Is this real? Is the image of the said man from the website the same as the figure sitting in front of me?

I had imagined seeing Father again two years after he left, not ten years later with no physical contact. 

The thoughts become unbearable. There's no way out for them. Everything is succumbed with the unsettling solid darkness. There's nothing that I can use to penetrate an escape route. It's cold, damp and lonely. There's no form of entertainment. 

I can only ponder in silence, hoping for something new to happen. Something vibrant and exotic. Any emotion that can trigger my fake mask that I've been wearing for most of the years by now. Anything that can tear off the veil of strangeness sitting in the core of my mind. Being alone with these thoughts deem unpleasant and torturing. 

I was here for a reason. I know I didn't come all the way to this company for nothing. I had to at least get something in return, but it wasn't even halfway. 

What felt as some sort of psychological support from SeokJin might have brought me here. Aside from the fact that I was lost in how to get in contact with Father once more, I realised that I've been overthinking this situation without being aware of it. That reason was developed from the preordained incident that Father has gone to work and never returned. At one point, I assumed as a child that death was the answer, although it became inevitable as a phone call had been made to home. 

I want to feel joy at the sight of seeing my healthy Father after all these years. It felt dumb of me not to walk up to the police station or the government to find any information about my guardian. 

The child within me was very patient to wait for his return from his 'overseas' work. She believed in the white lie that could easily be figured out by a teenager. She was so obedient for his long-term arrival and never realised how messed up she could turn out to be on the inside. The child endured several years, growing up into a figure that had no role model. 

The connection eventually had to fade and to bond back with my one and only guardian isn't as easy as it seems. 

Life can be strange, but what's more vexing is how I don't breakdown at the sight of my rather feeble Father. 

I gawk at the freshly made green tea served on the table, breathing in the lavender surroundings of Father's office located on the second floor. The drink's been untouched since served thirty seconds ago. I don't have the urge to wrap my fingers around the cup and drink it easily. It's not supposed to be that difficult. It's very basic. 

The questions and anger were pressing on me. I want these erupting thoughts to form into direct statements. I want clear answers as to whether my strange mind could be 'fixed'. 

Father clears his throat, inducing my trance to fade as I focus on him drinking warm water. I don't reach out for mine. My stomach feels full, or it's how my mind portrays my sour mood affecting everything.

The glass of warm water is placed back on the table. My gaze remains on Father's white hair, which contrasts drastically to how I had pictured him after he left. His features have developed from firm to frailty and vulnerability. I don't want any negativity within me to affect his lifestyle that I'm unaware of. 

"So ... MinYoung, how are you doing ... these years?" Father begins, followed by nothing but silence. 

For someone who seems quite busy in his research, Father has managed to keep his office as tidy as possible. It's ironic to his physical state. Regardless of Mother not being present anymore, Father surely could pull himself together to work until there's no tomorrow.