𝑰𝑵𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑰𝑫𝑨𝑻𝑬𝑫 ✧ 𝙹 𝙸 𝙺 𝙾 𝙾 𝙺 ✧

• 62 •

The persimmon tree, it got old. The dog house was still there but there's no dog. The mailbox became rusty. Shoes? There's only a pair.

Jimin stepped on the stairs up to the front door before knocking. He hesitated, he sighed.

"Jimin?", a woman next door called.

"Mrs Han..", Jimin smiled,

"How are you in Seoul?",

"Fine, more than ever",

"Jaerin waited all day for you",

"She's still around?",

"I couldn't just leave her so i fed her everyday. Maybe she went for a walk",

"Thanks for taking care of her",

"No troubles", the lady waved goodbye as she watered the plants outside her house.

Jimin twisted the knob and opened the door. He looked around in the house, not much changed. Except for the everyday reek of alcohol his father would give wasn't there.

"Eomma..", Jimin called as he went to the kitchen.

She wasn't there. He called again as he went to the bedroom. She wasn't there either. It began to worry him. He ran out back to his neighbour and stood by the fence as the division line between their houses.

"Mrs Han"

"Yes?", she turned to Jimin who looked panic.

"Where's mum?", he tried to stay calm.

"She's not in? Maybe she's at the market", she shrugged.

"Really? Okay..", he sighed a relief.

"Did you visit him?", Mrs Han asked suddenly,

"Visit?", Jimin was clueless,

"Your dad",

"You mean in jail? No",

"I mean about him in jail",

"I don't know what you're talking about", Jimin shook his head,

Mrs Han put down the hose and came to Jimin at the fence from her side. She held his hands in hers which had Jimin felt so left out,

"Jiminie you don't know?",

"What should i know..",

"where your dad is right now..",

"What about him? he's been released?",

"Honey no, he died. He hung himself".

Jimin at the moment felt his heart sank. The world around him just fell apart. He hated him, yes. But he's still his dad. He might have do crazy things but he was drunk and broke. Everyone has flaws, he accepted the fact that way.

At the staircase, he sat. He rubbed his chest, slowly, calmly. Though his heartbeat inside was likely about to explode.

His mum must've been lonely. It's been a year. He left her just like that. He didn't get to carry his dad's portrait too. What an awful son he was he thought.

"Jiminie you're home..", a familiar voice came to him at his feet.

He looked up to his mum who had a paper bag of groceries in her hands, a messy hair bun, a ripped apron, sweaty forehead.

"Eomma", he spoke as slow and hugged her tight with the groceries in between.

"Baby you're gonna crash the eggs", she laughed off until she heard Jimin sniffed.