a compilation of short stories

4. 엄마 • mama

INSPIRATION:
Lee Chien-na (李千娜)- Bu Ceng Hui Lai Guo "The Teenage Psychic" Official OST (不曾回來過- 通靈少女主題曲）
BTS (방탄소년단) - Spring Day (봄날)
G.E.M.(鄧紫棋) - 多遠都要在一起
~~

when you left, my world faded into a dull gray.

i still remembered the way you looked in that hospital bed, your skin being much paler than usual and blending into the papery white sheets.

your lips started turning a veiny, purplish blue, and all life had been sucked out of your once cheerful and loving face.

i held your hand, forcing my smile so the last thing you'd see would be happiness—albeit feigned—even through my agony and tears. as you struggled to breathe, i gently pushed away your ebony black hair, your now sunken-in features blurred by the salty tears that wouldn't stop coming, and finally placing a kiss on your forehead.

the most pained sound i'd ever heard was the monitor letting out that dreaded screech as you flatlined.

i let my plastered-on smile and happy façade finally  drop into a pained weep, clenching your cold, sweaty, waxy palm in my hand and letting out strangled sobs.

that night at the funeral, the skies were crying for you, just as my eyes were.

the gray cloudy skies above and heavy drops of rainwater still clinging onto the needles of the evergreen trees, i kneeled down next to your coffin, not caring about my now-muddy knees. i smiled sadly as i brushed my fingertips over the wood, my touch ghosting over every pattern on the cover; i continued to savor the time i had left before they put your new home—with you inside it—beneath the ground.

you had always loved the outdoors, something about being closer to nature that made you take me on numerous adventures through the rivers, forests, and mountains when i was just a little kid.

so i figured it'd only be fair that you were buried in your favorite place, where your soul could mingle amongst the rain-soaked, earthy ground, lean against the rough bark of the tall trees, and sing with the bluebirds when the summer mornings came to visit.

i didn't want to—no, couldn't—believe that you had gone so quickly, that the person that had stayed with me for so long could disappear in the blink of an eye.

at the least, i hoped you were happier than you were with me. that your death brought you some relief, too. that i didn't hold you back on this cruel, cold, mortal world for too long.

i held your hardening palm in my hand once again—looking more like a wax sculpture than a human, which hurt my heart to know you really weren't coming back—just like that early morning, a bitter, pain-filled tear rolling off my cheek and onto your leathery pale skin.

except this time you were in a wooden casket—instead of in a tiny white hospital cot—and fat raindrops melded with my tears as they plinked into the dark cherry wood of your new home.

from above, anyone could see that the guests had long gone, already leaving their wishes, flowers, and speeches at your grave.

one by one, they threw pitying glances at me as they left the area, my body with a small black umbrella still unmoving after hours of crouching, a mere dot next to your exposed body.

i took on the role of doing your makeup, replicating every stroke you would've made. a soft, dark brown eyeliner highlighted those once smiling eyes, and a nude lipstick disguised the bluish, sickly tint on your lips. you were wearing your favorite dress, the one you always showed off because you had gotten it at a thrift store for a mere $10, yet always looking like a million bucks in it.