Hug // Im Jaebeom

Part 1 - Her

I'm disappointed in you.

Those four words you've heard many times, but each time they hurt just the same.

To have a daughter like you, what did I do wrong, huh? What did I do wrong?! Where did I go wrong?!

You wondered the same too. Every single day. Every waking hour. What did your mother do to deserve a wreck of a daughter like you? Did she fail to save the nation in her past life?

Look around you! Your friends have all moved on from this phase, and you're still stuck here?! Do you think you even have time to waste now?!

Nope, you don't have time to waste. Your clock is ticking. You're not getting younger by the minute. Her patience is running out too. No. It has. All that's left in your mother now is anger, disappointment, and regret.

Regret of giving birth to you. Regret of raising you. Regret of giving the world to you.

At least that's how you perceived her feelings now, as glass crashed onto the floor into a million pieces as she threw everything off the coffee table out of frustration. You probably have to clean the shards before anyone steps on them, and also find the TV remote that flew somewhere around the living room.

I don't want to see you spending time on useless things! You hear me! I won't let you embarrass me anymore, young lady! No more going out! No more of that volunteering distractions! No more playing around with your stupid friends! You have two months to finish your studies, or else–

You expected yourself to tear up at her unfinished threat, but you didn't. Numbness began to wrap itself around you like a thick blanket as you can feel your heart plummeting in your chest. You nodded, throat too constricted to form words to say. She probably wouldn't want you talking back as well. Talking back never ended well for you. The air hung heavy in the room, and you wanted nothing more than to run from the sudden silence.

She's dangerous when she's silent, and you knew better than to stand still like an idiot.

You were about to grab the broom and dustpan from the corner of the room- for the glass shards when she dismissed you with a click of her tongue and a stern wave of her hand. As you stepped away from the room, you could hear her sobs, faint, yet piercing in your ears.

You sunk yourself into the comforter of your bed and closed your eyes shut in frustration. Your mother never had the best temper, but you know well that her outburst today was not without reason.

While all your friends have done their defenses and graduated with flying colors, you were still stuck in the chapter before last, the dreaded analysis, for two years now. You couldn't blame your mother for getting angry. You're the one on the wrong for always getting your revisions wrong, and for getting too wrapped up in your volunteering activities. But you couldn't bring yourself to say that going out to save stray cats or cook at the soup kitchen was your escape from the stress that your thesis has brought.

You couldn't bring yourself to say that you dreaded every minute you sat before your computer for the past three months. You couldn't bring yourself to say that at the sight of every email notification from your advisor, your heart would thud violently in your chest, making it hard for you to breathe, or think, or see clearly. And it's worse when you have to redo every section from scratch. The sleepless nights followed by hours of crashing under your comforter in your dark room. The pressure and stress began taking a toll on you, constantly pushing you on the brink of insanity.

The knock on the door snapped you out of reverie.

Your mother called out your name in a cold voice, and you dragged yourself up to open the door.

"I need to go to the office in Sokcho now and I won't be back until tomorrow. You stay at home and work on your revisions. You understand me?"

You nodded and she scoffed at your weak response. She didn't spare you a glance or even a goodbye as she left the house, slamming the door behind her.

You waited until the sound of her car faded away into the distance to go to your room and grab the sling bag on your desk. You checked the black bag for necessities– phone, wallet, your transport card, and earphones.

As much as you'd like to be a good daughter and work on your thesis again now, you couldn't. Staying in the house now only suffocated you. It would only drive you further to the edge, and you've been there before, the scars on your inner thighs a constant reminder of a darker time.

You had to get away and you knew exactly where to go. The one safe space you have.

Your sanctuary.

--

You couldn't quite remember how you got there. Everything felt like a blur, but the pain on your fingernails reminded you. You must've ridden the bus then. Because you'd only ever bite your nails so close to its bed whenever you sat on the bus, wishing impatiently for it to arrive quicker at your bus stop.

You tapped in the passcode and entered the apartment. The familiar scent of coffee and pinewood welcomed you, followed by soft meows of cats. You took off your shoes before greeting the cats, all five of them coming to the entryway to snuggle against you.

"Is your owner here?" you cooed at the cats, who meowed back responses. You gave them a weak smile and trudged in, straight to the bedroom, where the apartment owner left a messy bed behind. He's not here, because if he were, he would have welcomed you into his arms the moment you stepped inside.

You dived straight into the soft blanket, inhaling the scent on the linens. The most calming scent, his scent.

Although the sun in the sky stays the same, the rays that came in your room always felt harsh and pressuring. But here, the soft, filtered sunlight made the room warm and bright. The whole atmosphere was comforting you further, and slowly lulling you into sleep.

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