The Flowers We Saw

Destination Zero

⸎⸎⸎⸎⸎

Relatives were over. His bawling mother was the start of the party. His father quietly surrounded by men sharing conversation in hushed voices. Concerning themselves about the funds for the funeral. Cremation? Would they be renting a plot to secure a burial ceremony? That would require another decent load of money. Could his parents manage?

Uhm Doyoon had killed their daughter. It was the main talk. There was gossip how it happened. Who in the marriage had been unfilial? Had they been having trouble with money? Looks couldn't define what went on in one's home. It seemed to be the more interesting topic among the younger lads and ladies freshly married.

Someone suggested to hold his family responsible. Make them pay for Hayoung's funeral. His father angrily shot him down. He didn't want their dirty money. Not from his daughter's killer.

The worst part was his face. What the hell had happened to him?

The environment was suffocating.

Only his father talked to him. Not really. He at least led him into the kitchen where the food was. Told him to help himself then disappeared. On the other hand, his mother refused to talk to him.

Sehun lasted as long until the last guest left. Silence stilled the house. A place trapped with memories. The pictures on the walls all meant nothing now. Both children would never be coming back to recant the stain of their once lovely family.

He found his father in the living room. Sunken into a couch. Head hanging low. Just an old man with no longer anything to uphold. A sad man.

"Are you ok?" Sehun sat down with him.

"Your mother is worse." He said.

"It doesn't mean you're not sad, too, dad."

"Go home, Sehun. It's been a long day."

Sehun debated whether to stay but knew he wouldn't be the comfort neither mom nor dad wanted. They had always preferred Hayoung to him.

"Call me if you need anything," Sehun said.

His heart grew heavy when he stopped in the yard and turned to take a look of his childhood home. Not what it once used to be. His eyes cut to the open yard. Empty.

Getting into his car he drove home. Immediately thinking about Namjoo. Kihoon. His two favorite persons. Then it hit him like a block to the head.

He wasn't going home to them.

The good things were no longer there for him to look forward to at the end of the day.

Arriving to his place he quietly entered his home. Flicking on all the lights. Spotting clutters of dust that had formed in one corner. Stalking over to his fridge he peered inside. Food had gone bad. Namjoo would have fresh food in hers. He could imagine her asking, "Have you eaten?" or "You're home late."

Dinner's in the fridge she would say then go reheat the food for him, because putting food on the table was one of her favorite things to do. He looked forward to it daily.

Shutting the door, he pressed his forehead against it. He was homesick for her. He was sad. He wanted to hold her. He didn't want to have to replay days past again. Reminiscing memories. Living off old feelings and hoping Namjoo would turn around for him. Wondering when she'd cook a meal for him again.

It felt like ground zero again.

Sehun replayed Namjoo telling him to go home. Felt his heart pang. It hurt horribly.

He didn't understand.

Why did she ask him to leave?

He missed her so much.