CHAPTER FIVE      Hwa-Yeon's Perspective
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An escapists mind is often compared to either that of a hare or a lion.

Run too fast from reality and you lose. Escapism comes in the form of a carrot and you find yourself abandoning your reality for something to put you at ease, momentarily. Before loss darkens your sky, and reality is back, and for worse. Or, you are a courageous bearded cat, a lion. The champion of putting reality at bay. Forgetting is one thing, but getting by, that takes a lot more effort. Are you a winner or a loser?

There are thousands of ways that escapists could be labelled as, though, I for one, did not know what I would be categorised as.

The gift bag, from the previous night, had been standing side by side with the brown bag, that contained the second-hand school uniform that Soo-Jin had given me. Reality and the past, they both glared at me with their colours. Brown beside vivid colours.

Shadows of the bare branches beside the apartment, loomed over the coffee table, and it wavered alongside the quiet morning air. Minute sneezes had been tumbling from my mouth since I awoke, for I found that I had been sleeping on the balcony again. The lengthy skirt had acted as a blanket throughout my slumber, though, it was not enough to defend myself against the freezing weather.

Once again, I was met with another choice.

Since my Doljabi celebration til now, I was unable to escape from my terrible choices.

     I had come to Seoul to almost relive my childhood and teenage years. To experience what it might have been like if I had chosen to stay with my grandparents, and not my aunt. Although it caused my insides to mangle with guilt, I could not go on living in such a divine and tranquil place like Cheongsando . . . When I physically did not deserve it. I didn't deserve the wondrous setting of Cheongsando, and the warm arms of my aunt, that took me in and raised me with an abundance of fondness.

I reached out and picked the gift bag.

Letting the ribbon handles to the bag swing around my forearms, I reached inside for the tub of ice-cream. I couldn't let it melt like the bag of Fanfare ice-cream that I was given four days ago.

Alike a cotton sock used to keep sewing pins, my heart glimmered with needle like pricks as it increased its pulse. It even manoeuvred towards my throat and the vein beside the lump within began to thrash against my skin, the sound reaching my ears. It had been only a scrape of a week, and I had already diluted the smell of the house and altered minute things, such as the papers on the table had fallen to the ground due to my clumsiness. I never planned to let my own reality interrupt the stillness of the apartment— not that I had a plan in the first place.

Littering the surface of the fridge door, I was met with the post-it-notes that welcomed me when I had stepped into the undisturbed apartment. Crouching down, I picked up the three that had fallen from the door. ST Entertainment try-outs are this Thursday!!! You've got this / Grandpa's doctor's appointment Tuesday 9th May - 2:45PM / Remember to get Lee Su-Ho's Christmas present. The ink was faded from what I presumed to be the fumes that entered the air when they cooked in the kitchen, dust even gathered on the strip that was used to stick against surfaces.

     The bristles of aching in my chest never dissipated, when I took in the door of the fridge. Magnets from different parts of Korea decorated the front of it, and with that note, a sorrowful smile found itself on my lips. The furthest I travelled, aside from my trip to Seoul, was from one village in Cheongsando, to the other. There was a magnificent beach on the other end, my aunt said that she used to go there when she was a little girl. The sand there was beautifully soft.

"Oh! . . ." In a light gasp, I glided my fingers towards the centre.

     There was one photograph that was clipped into place by a bunny magnet. It was of three boys. I recognised the background immediately, the wooden frames to the building behind them was identical to the restaurant I had gone to only two days before. All three pairs of eyes gleamed into mine. Their faces were adorned with bright smiles. I could mirror it so, but with a wistfulness.

     In red ink there were the words: FOR YOUR DEBUT, BRO—

     In green: IF I DON'T MAKE IT, I'M COUNTING ON YOU TO MAKE AN AGENCY TO HIRE ME. LOL

     With black marker, and three dashes acting as exclamations above the text: THREE S'S FOREVER

     The date was written in blue. It was taken in October, two years ago.

     I ran a thumb against a crumpled corner, with an effort to smooth it out, I examined their faces once again.

     Lee Su-Ho and maybe Han Seo-Jun? My brother too . . .

     Then I stopped.

     I had to look away, for, I was inhaling more oxygen than exhaling. The more my thoughts and eyes lingered on the image, the more I couldn't keep it all together. I hadn't received a letter or photo from my brother in years. I didn't know what he looked like— I already had a gut feeling who's face belonged to my brother, and I thought that it might have been the middle boy. The one in yellow.

     Though, I couldn't go on looking anymore.

     The furniture and ground in my peripherals whirled. I feared, that if I found out what he looked like, his face would begin to appear within both my thoughts and my surroundings, and that would be far more haunting than staying in that apartment.

     I whacked the fridge door open, the entirety of it shook as I did so, which invited a foul odour into the room. "Augh," despite the fact that the fumes had already entered my nostrils, I pulled the front of my sweater onto my nose, my hand still clutching it as there were holes within the material of it. Though it rendered useless, I used my unoccupied palm to waft away the colourless stench, and with every inch of my body I was thankful for the open doors to the balcony.

     Slipping on a pair of washing up gloves, I hurried towards the trash bag that I had prepared. I then began to dispose of the red-pink meats, the fuzzy fruits and grey-blue vegetables. For such a small fridge, I had never encountered an endless supply of food before. I had no time to think of how I was completely demolishing what used to be inside the fridge. I was too engaged in trying to get rid of the smell and dirtiness of it all to even have time to grieve.

     Tip-toeing and hurrying towards the balcony, I placed the hefty bag there to let the unpleasant smell drift away.

     Without much time to process it all, for I was still shaken up over the mouldy food, I sprayed disinfectant into it and began to wipe vigorously at the sides and all areas, even doing so a couple dozen times. Until, all that was left was an overpowering smell of bactericide.

     I slipped off the gloves, and scrubbed my hands with a new soap bar from under the sink. Drowning out the strong air, was then a soft smell of lavender. And to that I thought of my aunt, and her washing detergent. Fanning my hands dry, I blamed the overwhelming smells for causing my eyes to go blurry with thin tears.

     I then turned around to place the ice-cream in the centre of the fridge, before shutting it.

     I had been so quick to put the ice-cream in the fridge, that I felt completely distracted over the fact that I was re-arranging the contents of the fridge. A fridge that was filled by my brother and my grandparents some time ago. I had been a hare, running at full speed, and now I was dealing with the reality of it all. But now, I couldn't tell if I was growing emotional over that or because I had grasped onto courage like a lion. It had taken a lot of exertion to will my hands to destroy a part of the apartment.

     I found myself staring at the picture of the three boys again.

     If they really were the boys from the card addressed to my brother, I wondered what kind of people they were. Compassionate? Funny? Rude?— Recalling the belated birthday card, my impression of them was that they cared. Han Seo-Jun especially, for he still sent my brother birthday gifts, and his letter . . . It radiated nothing but anguish. And, for that answer, I found that the pin needles within my chest had began to subside. I felt guilty, however, for being so relieved over the fact that my brother had been so happy, and that he was surrounded by good people.

     For, clearly that wasn't the case, since he was not there beside me to confirm that.

The telephone then began to ring.

My shoulders bounced; eyes tearing away from the photograph.

"H— Hello?" I was out of breath by the time I reached the other side of the room. One palm was pressed against my chest, as though it could help steady my breath.

"Peachy? Are you alright? Did you go out for a walk, you sound like you've been walking for miles!"

     I shut my eyes, inhaling and counting to ten, before releasing it, causing my breath to sound deafening through the phone. "I'm okay. I just woke up. How— How are you Auntie Seung-Wan? Did you help me enrol at Saebom High School yet?"

     I could hear her chuckle enthusiastically, though it was overtaken by static, for the connection was not trustworthy in Cheongsando. "Yes, yes! I had to use the computers at the local library, you know how those things cause me headaches. I can never re-wire my mind to understand those things. But yes! You're all set to go today. That was why I called, to tell you about that— But of course, I had to check up on my girl. Did you sleep alright?"

     I didn't mean to, but it was as though I sneezed on command, I clutched my arms tight towards my chest, my palm rubbing repetitively against my nose, causing it to go sore and half-runny. "Thank you so much Auntie Seung-Wan. And uh, I'm doing great. Thank you. I had cold strawberry milk last night, so that's why um, I sound like this." Guilt gnawed at my brain, though, drowsily I told a fib.

     I braced myself for her scorning, though it was better for her to tell me off for that, rather than the fact that I had been sleeping under the Seoul stars in the cold for the past few days. "Jeong Hwa-Young! I told you cold drinks can give you stomach-aches and all sorts— Would you look at you. It rained, didn't it? Don't tell me you didn't put on a raincoat? I packed it for you, in the larger suitcase!" I heard her set down a kitchen utensil, perhaps it was a whisk, for recently she had told me that she re-visited her hobby of baking. "Look in the front pocket of your rucksack. I put a packet of Chrysanthemum tea in there. Put only half a tea-spoon of sugar! Okay? No more than one!"

     I wished that she was the one to make it for me, like she did when I was a little girl. But I could only let a tiny smile glide across my lips, chest growing hollow. "I will," my throat grew croaky, and I thanked my cold for it. It hid the fact that my eyes were close to letting my reminiscent tears pour out.

     "That's my girl."

     I couldn't tell her that I missed her, I didn't want to plant any ideas of worry into her mind. Plus, a few days before, I had told her everything that was going perfectly fine: from the meal with my new companions to my new part-time job. I didn't tell her the rest. Thus, instead, I settled with a: "Thank you, Auntie Seung-Wan."

     There was a pause, and for some reason, I could sense that she thought the same thing, and she only confirmed it with the words: "Aw Peachy . . . you thank me when you're all well okay? . . . I miss you over here, you know."

     "Me too," I almost whispered, and I squeezed my eyes shut, and imagined myself talking to her, face to face. Her cheeks dusty from flour, and my own filled with warmth and shades of pink from embracing her. "I do too."

     There was a faint ding from the other end. "Oh!— That startled me! That must be the timer to the oven. I'll have to put the muffins inside it now . . . If only I could send some over, muffins are a great solution for colds. I'll have to go now Peachy, though, if you ever need me, I am only one phone call away. Love you!"

     "Love you too. Don't burn yourself, okay?"

     I could hear her chuckle again, "okay now Peachy, I won't, you know I'm careful. Right then, my kind girl, I hope you have a good first day!"

     "Thank you, I'll tell you all about it. All the good stuff."

     And after more farewells, the call was over.

     Through the red foliage of the maple tree just over head, the rays of the sun peeked through, casting the leaves in almost a heavenly glow. I had lugged the entire bag of junk towards the elevator and towards the back area of the block of apartments. Once I had thrown them all away, I spared no second to reach for the sanitiser in my pocket, skin still crawling from the state of the inedible food. I had expected a fair share of mice to be crawling about the place, and surely my bag of expired foods and bag containing the broken plant pot would attract multiple families of them. However, everything was orderly, even the small field was littered with tiny daisies, and despite the stench in the air, I looked upwards, and saw the beams of the sun break through the branches of the tree. They appeared like miniature fireflies in the daytime, gliding and glittering across the boughs of the tree.

     "So . . . pretty." The tree reminded me of Cheongsando again; I gasped lightly.

     I could lift my palm above me and try to pick out the sparks of light, as though I could capture them and keep them for myself. However, I only stayed put, with my arms to the side, and watched from afar, my head arched upwards.

     I realised that the trunk of the tree was planted on the bit of private land that belonged to the block of apartments, a park behind the building. To visit later, I suppose.

     I spun on my heel, reluctantly, as the sound of gravel scraped my shoes. I still kept my eyes upwards, feeling as though I never left the cottage near the fields, and I was leant back in my swinging chair on the front porch of the house, soaking in the sun— But I was pulled away from my useless thoughts when something brushed up against my ankle.

     Letting neither a breath or exhale leave my body, my legs stopped abruptly.

     But as I peered downwards, I was met with two piercing olive coloured eyes that belonged to a body of midnight fur. "Oh!" Quite immediately, I bent my knees, and crouched downwards. The kitten's eyes enlarged, as though it could hypnotise me with its gorgeous green eyes. "Hello there friend," in order to gain trust, I slowly leant my palm forwards. Its baby pink, damp, button nose, sniffed my hand. Before snuggling completely into my wrist. Gently, so that I didn't startle it, I curled my fingers and scratched softly at its chin. "How lovely you are." It trilled.

     But a squirrel that had been scurrying across one of the boughs above us, broke a few twigs and let some leaves fall.

     Startled, the kitten tensed up and dived back through the gaps between the fences, and to wherever it lived.

     In some ways I could relate to the tiny kitten— the Earth had its ways of installing fear into its beings, causing us to shy away from the terrifying forces of the world— In that case, would cowards still be called cowards?

Somehow, the apartment felt otherworldly, more than usual. Perhaps it had been the lighter current that the breeze had. It was tranquil, as though Spring had found a resolution to the storms that she had endured in the last days. She let her hands tangle through my hair, the strands dilly dallying behind my back. I was stood in the centre of the living room, below one of the ceiling fans, yet, I felt nothing from them, but the natural zephyr from the balcony windows.

Though, that was what perplexed me the most.

The light breeze flowing from the windows.

Had I not opened the windows in the first place, the door to my brother's room would never have opened.

Had I not entered the apartment, rather.

But I did.

The door had croaked open, oils in dire need on those hinges, signifying its age and the lack of inhabitants within that apartment for so many years.

     Funny how calm winds can ignite a wire, and cause destruction.

I waited. Eyes closed. I thought that the telephone would ring coincidentally once again. But there was nothing. No sound. Only the drumming of my heart within my ears. I swallowed. Though I swallowed on nothing. It had only been five days. Five days— and I had already reconstructed the place. The objects within all the rooms were meant to stand still. As they did for the last three and a half years.

     In the back of my mind, I yelled for anyone to create a disturbance in my thoughts, by calling the apartment's telephone. Soo-Jin? . . . Soo-Ah?— Ju-Kyung?— But of course they couldn't. They were too busy with their own lives. They carried on with the present. But the past was calling me. Its door was swung open. Beckoning me to re-visit it. To dissect it.

     I willed and willed for my pulse to calm itself. But it was all I could hear. Thudding, louder, louder, louder. All in my ears. I wanted it all to go away. For it to stop. But I could only assist myself.

     It was as though the cold winds had gone full speed against my limbs. I felt light-headed. Winded. As though I were escaping from my own body. I hadn't reacted like this before, I was good at keeping it all together— Calm, not so, disorderly. I was good when I entered the apartment for the first time. When I saw the photo on the fridge.

It's always easy opening one door. The next door is calm. But the third door drags you down. Back to Earth, even. It sends tremors through the plates, and it quakes helplessly.

Floating above myself, my legs willed themselves forwards. Into his room. It was all tinted a light yellow— the drapes being shut. Though the window was half open. No wonder why the door opened so easily. Dazed. I dragged my eyes carefully across the room, as though one harsh look could disrupt everything.

It was normal, almost. Almost too mundane.

With it peeling in one corner, the pearl white wallpaper scraped across all four walls. Pages torn from kids to teens comic books scattered across odd walls, whilst some displayed certificates, that I could not quite make out what they were earned from. Everything was in almost a faint bokeh effect, as my pupils were glazed with tears. I almost walked into the small metal fan by the foot of the bed. The pastel orange sheets were rumpled, as though he had gotten out of bed just that morning. Even a miniature, plastic, light up box of faux moving fish within a tank, sat in the middle of the mattress.

I had to stop myself from taking it into my hands. I struggled for air as I held back a weeping. I had sent him that on our tenth birthday.

     I had insisted the moment I stepped in, to not let any of my fingerprints come into contact with anything. But I had to steady myself within the moment, my fingers latching onto the chair behind me. I felt a jacket discarded on the back board. It was cold, for the person that it sworn its duty to was gone.

     The absence of warmth within the room was overwhelming.

     I yearned to make an exit, yet I stayed.

     The tables, the chairs, the cupboards were wooden. Some clothes folded over an open wardrobe door. Empty, half-empty, quarter-empty coffee cups and glass juices were left dotted around the room. Trinkets like figurines from surprise capsule dispensers littered the floor beneath the desk, perhaps they had fallen from the windowsill, as some still remained. Each one told some part of what his personality might have been like— I couldn't move on to that yet, so, I purposefully avoided them. Like I tried to do with everything else in the room.

     It was as though he collected photographs, as many of them gathered around the table lamp beside the bed, on the table. I saw the same three boys again— all wearing gleeful expressions, that I felt too self-aware. For I knew my presence was not at all as gleeful as those that lived within those photographs. I saw what seemed to be the wiser version of my aunt, who was given a piggy back ride from her grandson, with her husband stood beside her. That photo in particular seized my attention firmly, my eyes running over to my grandma once more. I only saw her when I was a small child— Why does she look so . . familiar?

     But my attention was swiftly torn away to the boy in the middle.

     So I was indeed correct.

     The photograph, on the fridge, with the three boys. The boy in the centre was indeed my brother.

     My hand slipped from the chair that I used to steady myself, and I fell into a heap on the floor.

     He looked so happy in that photo. They all did.

     Everything in the room appeared bright and merry, as though he were to come back from a short morning run in a few minutes. Being there, just stepping into the room, I had already disturbed the stillness of it all. Yet, I did not let my weeping be the only thing I did. Instead, I didn't do anything for sixteen whole minutes, but stare at photos before me.

     The past stared right back at me.

Sylvia's note. Our baby did it guys. She stepped into her brother's room. Let's all cry.

The next chapters will only get better and it'll be such a rollercoaster ride hehehe I hope you stick around for that, even though I say this for almost every chapter—

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa I don't know what to say, except, let's pray for Hwa-Yeon's mental health and for HER, we love you babes keep going and get that CLOSUREEEEEE

Okay seee youuuuuuuu

Looveeeeee<3