𝐄𝐘𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐘

71 | chain of memories part 4

13 years ago...
Current location: Seoul

Jungkook is 8 yrs old

"Jesus! What did those boys do to you?"  Eomma says gasping as she applies medicine on the scratches on my head. The stinging pain makes me wince, but I don't flinch.

We're back home. I'm sitting on the bathroom sink while Eomma puts a bandage on the left side of my forehead. Other than the dozens of bruises that numbed my body, that's the only scratch I have.

"At such extreme cases you have to take extreme measures Kookie." She mutters, her hazel eyes nailing mine with precision.

That's something new. "What do you mean?"

She sighs and pats my head gently. "I know that I tell you that violence isn't the way to solve conflict, but when someone raises their hand at you...you never back down."

"I understand that you were outnumbered back at school." Eomma continues. "Communication has to be verbal and not physical. However, if someone tries to force you to do their bidding you can't let them get their way. You are young, but you have your own morals and beliefs. Stand by them and don't ever back down."

I look at Mom in awe. This is the first time she speaks to me in this manner.

"Don't let the world turn you into something you're not." 

The way she says that is as if she knows something I don't.

She starts picking up the medicine bottle and she places it inside the emergency kit. Then she puts it in the cabinet under the sink before helping me get down.

"Did you really think I couldn't beat Yong-Sik?" I ask her.

"Honey there were eight to nine kids in there. There was no one else to defend you back there."

I had my own reasons for not beating Yong-Sik up.

I didn't want to be like it.

I refused to give in to the monster.

"I would have done something much worse if I acted out Eomma." The consequences would be too much to bear and I didn't want that weight ony shoulders.

She looks at me for a moment and smiles. "I know my little boy can kick some butt! One butt at a time though."

We both laugh at what she says and we head out the bathroom and into the kitchen.

"How about we tell your father to sign you up for taekwondo?" Eomma suggests while cooking dinner. "I think it would be good for you. You're young and you're good at sports."

I'm doodling on my half ripped sketchbook while she boils some ramen.

"I don't know," I mumble. "Maybe."

"What are you drawing?" She pours the ramen inside two black bowls.

I was attempting to draw Eomma while cooking but I couldn't because she was moving back and forth between the counter and the fridge.