Path Of The Wind

Part 5: 《Two different Worlds

Eunseo

Perhaps it was the weakness of my body or the gifts that life took from me too early that made me construct a strong mind. I built it brick by brick, until no fear dared to stick at all

But chaos is drawn to itself. It drags you into a world carved from the darkness, a road i walked on, meeting people who were copies of each other—hungering for something, thirsting for the ultimate drug of the times, distraction that had an unconscious impact of making us absorbed  by unawareness. A world in which there were no borders, where purpose gets lost and I slipped in too comfortably, as if I belonged there, and perhaps I did.

When I left my hometown, I thought I was fleeing. But the place I fled to wasn't freedom. It was suffocating, polished too brightly, blinding in its pretense of perfection . Attachments i never asked for began taking root inside of me, dismantling the carefully built independence ive established for myself. And the people i once thought i could live without—Adem and Mirae—has even the biggest share.

I had missed them, a lot. and in their absence a void had been growing unknownly. I had came to the realization once i got excatly what i wanted and that i discovered that it didnt align with my needs ,something I hadn't expected to want again: special connection.

So I went to Mom instead because i was rejected. Her transformation intrigued me, and I needed to know what had changed her into the woman she'd become. Perhaps by learning about her, I would have answers I so desperately needed—answers to who I was and where I belonged.

And so I turned to my mother. There was a something in the change that fascinated me. She was a different woman now. I wanted to know about her transformation and where it might take me.

We were bound together, she and I, by blood. It was never a matter of will; nobody ever makes choices about parents, neither parents make them about children.

No matter how difficult or distant a parent might seem, real hatred for their child is an impossibility . That bond, however tested, remains. Trusting her, leaning on her, came as naturally as breathing, like a child instinctively turning to their parent for guidance.

I was prepared to do everything that was offered to me—not out of love, but on the hope of finding it. I wasn't driven by passion or love; I was looking for something to occupy the space in my heart. It could be a place, something to do, someone, or even something trivial, it did not matters at all .

It was this search that led us to the church. On our visits, I encountered a few individuals who, although not the individuals I had been hoping to meet, were able to alleviate some of the pain . They had shown glimpses of care, comfort, friendliness to some extent.Those were Su-ah and Min-jae, a girl with 160 cm of height and wavy short hair of brown chocolate shade that lay just above the shoulder, a clean frange of hair on the forehead and youthful adorable face which did not have any trace of make up, the vibe she was giving was too peaceful and serene, Su-ah was chatty and cheerful and she belonged to the church since forever while Min Jae was new to it , he a carefree cold blooded guy of 185 cm was following Sooah like a guardian angel wherever she went, Min Jae was a person who did not seem to have any sort of fear, and loved to go out, he had high bridge nose, almond eyes and naturally messy dark coloured hair which looked perfect on him.

The church was filled with light, spilling in through a glass ceiling, casting a beautiful glow on the carved walls embellished with elegant art. As if I were immersed in gold and diamonds. I sat between the waves of people and listened to the lullaby that filled the space. Sounds or words i couldn't quite know, a blend that sounded human and yet not.

I noticed the two men in plain clothes escorting a woman out of the sacred space. She seemed neither compliant nor resistant, there was an unsettling hollowness to her eyes, as if some vital spark had been extinguished; Trailing behind with fretful steps was a friend, her face contorted with worry.