SOFT BUN || markhyuck

25.

I was fucking tired. The whole day the brat kept on punching and biting me, screaming, crying, it felt like he lost his mind. What kind of drug did they give him? That was the first thing that I wanted these people to ask and break their bones the next.

It was maybe past 12 by now, leaning against the wall opposite the bed of the kid, he finally fell asleep, rubbing my face and stopping my fingers in hair, I dropped my head on my knees that were pulled close to my chest. Not long after I felt tears drop on the wooden floor. I wanted to get out of here.

I wished my mother was here. I had been missing her a lot these days. Her warmth that these cold boards under my feet weren't giving me. Asking me how I was holding up, and maybe I could cry on her shoulder to let it all out. It was all too much now. At first, I felt like I could take care of it all, but now I realized that I was merely a bug in this whole forest. I wiped my nose on my sleeves and leaned my head back, closing my eyes.

I missed her so much.

I wanted to return to the time when she used to wrap her arms around me, taking me in her lap, how her slim fingers ran in my hair as I drifted off to sleep due to the calm beating of her heart. I remembered when she used to tell a story. It was the same one every time before she put me to bed.

'..but what about the story?' I questioned the women who tucked me in bed, running her hand in my hair. Kissing me on the cheek once, forehead, the other cheek, nose which she - booped - afterward.

I loved her like every child loves their mother, but her oh how much I wanted to tell her that, but I never did. I hated her for that. I hated it how she never even questioned me about my love for her. I was mad at her. All these years. I chucked in my breath, silently crying in the room of a stranger who I thought I knew.

She tackled me, tickling on the soft sheets which she stole from nobody knows where. The shabby old 'house' was filled with mine and her laughter, interrupting the rain outside.

'Mother!' I wanted her to start the story. By now, I stopped counting as to how many times have I heard it, but at this point, it wasn't even about the story itself. It was her voice. I wanted to hear my mother's voice. She was barely with me during day time, mostly out somewhere to steal food to feed this meaningless five-year-old child, yet nevertheless, I waited for her return every day and night. 'but you must sleep right after my little tiger,'

I nodded. And before I could vocalize my answer she began the story of the Shepherd once again tonight. I looked up to her as her hair fell on her shoulder, some on her face. I crawled out the sheets slowly, afraid she might scold me, and sat right by her legs, eyes never leaving her face. I held onto her dress and got lost in the storyland which my mother never got tired of telling me about as she covered me around with the sheets in the end.

'There was a young boy, whose parents wanted him to become a priest, but he had other wishes,' I remember interrupting her every time, asking the same questions, fearing she might get lost in the story and forget I was there by her feet.

'Wishes?'

'yes, wishes, minhyung, he wanted to become a shepherd instead, but that would mean he would have to leave his parents and his house behind to do that. But the young boy was afraid to tell such a wish to his father because shepherds are not rich, all they have are their animals. He was the only child of the family and that made him sad even more.'

'Then what did he do, mother?'

'One morning, he put all his fears aside and decided to tell his father the wish, but to his surprise, his father smiled; you must know that being a shepherd you must travel and leave somethings behind my boy, the father said. The young boy told him about everything he knew, how wanting to travel the different places in this world made him want to become a shepherd in the first place. His father agreed and gave the boy three gold stones that he had saved for his son, asking him to sell them for a flock of sheep.'