Euphoria

I am sitting on the edge of the roof with my feet dangling over the edge, while looking down at the empty city. It's not likely to see anyone else walking through the streets of Busan at 05.27 in the morning, but here I am, wide awake and admiring the view from my apartment building as I take a deep breath that fills my lungs with dust. Even though the air is foul, there is still some beauty about the city that I once called home.

It was like yesterday, when she walked into the orphanage. I was only ten years old back then, but I still remember the clothes she wore and how she smelled. A light, fresh smell, almost like a summer breeze. She wore a white shirt tucked into a long, tightfitting, dark blue skirt, and she had some type of red scarf around her neck, almost like a tie. She looked like one of those weather reporters on the TV telling the viewer that the global warming is now over two degrees Celsius. We only got to watch TV on Saturdays in the orphanage and the food there was awful. The other kids were not that nice either. They always picked on me for my accent when I spoke, so I usually kept to myself.

I was dying to get out of there. I wanted to break free from the prison I spent eleven years of my life in. From time to time, couples came and looked for very young children, but the lady that walked into the main hall came alone and asked for a boy between the age eight and twelve. As all the boys, including myself, were lined up in front of her, our eyes met. I got shy so I looked down at my old, worn out shoes. The thing is, she didn't just continue to walk down the line, she stopped and lifted my chin up carefully so that we locked eyes again. That was the start of a new family. She saved me from that hellhole. She treated me like her own son. She sent me to school, bought me new clothes, since those we wore at the orphanage was just worn out hand-me-downs that had stains and holes in them. She did everything for me.

It was until last fall that everything had been perfect. It was the day of my 19th birthday and we were supposed to go out for dinner, just the two of us. I had just gotten my drivers license, so I made my way towards the drivers seat. She walked behind me when a car came down the street, towards her, at full speed. I didn't get any time to react, and just like that, she was gone. I could've turned around. I could've pushed her away, but I didn't.

I quit my job, stopped seeing my friends and only went out of the house when I needed something. After a while I started blaming myself. I killed her. The only person to really love me is dead because of me. It felt like the world was a work of art before the painting fell apart. It's almost like a broken light switch. I want to turn on the light so bad, but the fuse has gone. I guess this is the darkness of the day. I want to erase you, because that hurts less than missing you. You were the cause of my euphoria and you've left me all alone. It feels like winter, even in the middle of August. It could be 40 degrees outside, and I would still feel cold and empty. How much longer until we reunite again? When we're both in utopia?

Not able to run away from my own thoughts, I am now standing on the edge of the roof, feeling a slight breeze against my skin. Nothing feels like home anymore, so I close my heavy, swollen eyes, as the sun rises and new colors blend into the grey sky. I turn my back towards the edge, feeling like the edge of this world is near, and I lean backwards. I fall towards the ground, looking up into a colorful, cloudy sky. It is in this moment I feel the most alive. I've put an end to the everlasting winter, and I'm going to a place beyond earth. I'll see you in utopia, mom.