"Where do I stand when I have no strength to stand at all?"


 

//UNEDITED


 

"Found and lost."
 

I have time but I am timeless.

It has been a long time since I really felt time going by meaningfully. I am lost within the night where all I do is wait and wait before I fall asleep. But that is what I am afraid of; closing my eyes. 

I remember when I see darkness, of times where I was happy, times that were spent greatly. And it hurts, because when I open my eyes, they stare back at me, bloodshot and tired. This is me, I say to myself, but some part of me refuses to accept this fact.

Do people find themselves or are they found by people?

I found myself once. My mother was a beautiful woman in my eyes, she worked hard in anything she did and she really shined in my eyes. I was seven when she taught me dancing, even though my father was against it. She was a ballerina and naturally,I learned ballet from her. It wasn't something most boys did when I was my age, but I felt the happiest when we danced together. She really was beautiful and even as she was neglected of love from my father most of the time, she still smiled strongly and beautifully.

When I turned ten, my mother gifted me with a pair of canvas slippers so that I could dance better. But my father was outraged when he came home and saw that we were both wearing our own ballet shoes and dancing around our big house. He quietly told me to take them off, and I did so because I knew that he didn't approve of our actions. He reprimanded that I stop ballet and focus on other things that boys did, like basketball or soccer.

I said no. I should've stayed quiet instead back then.

My parents entered my father's study room and after a long while, they came out. Mom had seemed slightly off but I didn't question it. It was my big day and I thought of asking her tomorrow.

I was so foolish, so selfish to had done that.

A cake was brought out by our housekeeper, Mina, and they all sang happy birthday to me while I smiled happily and blew the candles. I made a wish back then, I wish my father wouldn't stop me dancing. And I got just what I wanted. I was enrolled into a class with other ballerinas and ballerinos, whom I quickly became friends with. Though there were only two other boys with me, I had fun. I ignored all the whispers and rumours about me because I didn't have the need to care.

But my wish came with a price, of course. 

Mom's beauty was somehow off the more days go by. But whenever I return home after my lessons, she greets me with a smile and a warm hug. I had a dance recital somewhere in March the following year and mom was really proud. She was happy and proud 'till she had tears in her eyes when I finished my part on stage. Beside her, my father was not seen like he promised. I received a rose from my mother and a thousand praises from my friends. I had thought of telling my father, but he went on a business trip the next day.

When my 11th birthday rolled in, I hated myself for the first time ever.

My father came home, even though he said that he wouldn't be able to make it. I told him about my achievements when we sat down, waiting for my mom to come down. I told him about the A's I had gotten and he nodded his head proudly. I was happy and told him about a small spelling bee competition I won and he smiled at me, patted me on the head, saying something like 'good job'. So, I continued on dumbly and told him about a ballet competition in which I placed second. His eye twitched when I started talking about how nervous I was and how a few of my friends had cheered for me. He had opened his mouth to say something but he got interrupted when mom came down.

"Honey." She smiled and walked down the stairs. She wore a white summer dress that she knew I loved and kissed me on the cheek while whispering 'I love you, sweetie.' We did the usual singing and cake. I had one wish back then. I want to make my father proud. And right after that, my father brought some papers and set them down in front of me. I had questioned him about what they were and the answer I had gotten was like a gunshot to both me and mom.

"You'll be quitting your dance lessons and start taking supplementary classes." He said, ignoring my crestfallen face and the anger mom showed. I stood up from where I sat, cake forgotten and happiness crushed, "Why?" I asked and he merely raised an eyebrow. "I gave you what you want for a year. Now it's time to stop and focus on getting good grades." I opened my mouth but I didn't know what to say. 

Mom stepped in for me. "No," I have never seen my mom so angry before, so disappointed and so sad at the same time. " I will not allow you to that. Anything but that." She was standing firm, I realized, all just for me. It was my dream, not hers and yet she protected it as if it did belong to her. But she was shot down without even getting a chance to argue, "You are in no place to say that. Do you think after all I di-"

"I understand." Mom looked at me, her face shocked at my agreement. She knew that I loved dancing, loved it to every bit and that it was what made me happy but she has made so many sacrifices for me. Now it's my turn, I had thought while smiling at my mom, "It's okay. I had fun while it lasted."

Do I regret what I decided back then? 
Afraid, too afraid to ask myself.

"B-but you love it. I'm sur-" My father had shot her a look before heading upstairs to his study. He gave me a pat on the head on the way and said, "You thought well. I'm proud of you." 

Those were the words that I have longed to hear from him, I realized back then. So, I straightened my back and took the papers off the table, kissing my mom on the cheek and telling her that I'll be fine and it's really okay. She smiles unsurely but nods and bids me a goodnight.

I think her figure seemed really thin back then. A little too thin, even for her and before she entered her room, my eyes finally realized that she too pale. But it could've been the lights, or that I didn't see properly.

I'm sorry mom.
 

"Strength."

 

That was what I lost. My strength, the one who pulled me through tough times when I took classes with subjects too hard for my age. Mom was beautiful, but she slowly turned hollow and I was blind to it.

I was fourteen when I witnessed hell.

I had returned home after endless lessons and just wanted to eat dinner with mom where we could talk about anything. But that was blown out of my mind when I saw Mina standing there, head bowed and face expressionless. She was in her late-twenties and I really thought she was nice and pretty, like an older sister to me.

Father stood beside her, without any remorse or sorry written on his face. "Mom?" She turned to look at me and then her face crumbled within seconds. I walked up to her hesitantly and she wrapped her arms around me. I felt the air in my lungs quickly leaving me but I kept quiet and waited for an explanation. I glanced at my father but he only looked at us with eyes that seemed to say that he wanted to be somewhere else but he couldn't just leave.

Mom had finally loosened her arms around me but one hand was firmly latched on my shoulder. She looked at where the other two were standing and took a deep breath, "Do what you want. But do not bring Hoseok in this." Her voice was filled with warning, malice and anger thinly laced within it.

She looked at me and smiled that bright smile of hers. She waved a hand and told one of the very few maids we have to bring dinner into my room and she pulled me up the stairs, "Let's do something different today, okay?"

I couldn't refuse her smile that seemed so sad yet happy and nodded quietly at her request. We entered my room without a word and I changed in the bathroom. I heard a knock from outside and quiet voices before the door shut again. When I came out, mom was standing by the door that lead to the balcony in my room. I had never stood outside it before because it was locked by my father in my earlier years to keep me from being distracted and the curtains were always kept closed. "Mom?" I called out to her and she turned to smile at me, a twinkle in her eyes. I felt relieved all of a sudden, that my mom still shined even in her darkest times. I had known what happened without even being told. I was not a child anymore.

"I just had a great idea." She says and at that moment, I heard myself think that I would follow her wherever she wanted, even if it meant dying because she has done so much for me and she deserves the world. 

We spent our time eating dinner on the floor of the balcony and we laughed and laughed non stop. Eventually, mom said she was tired and that she wanted to spend the night with me so she grab an extra pillow and laid beside me. She caressed my face and asked me if I wanted to hear her sing. I nodded and even though it might seemed childish, it felt like the world to me. I smiled as my eyes grew heavy and my breath steady. "I love you, Hoseok. Do whatever you want, because it's your life, okay sweetie?" I hear her say in a soft, gentle voice. I hummed my agreement to her words and I drifted off to a dream where the both of us danced and laughed all we wanted.

When I woke up, mom was not beside me and I groggily walked down the stairs to see her, in hopes of getting breakfast made by her. Instead all I saw was policemen in the living room when I came down and my mother's body passing by me as she was being carried by a few men to the door. I froze on the spot, eyes widened and breath stopping. I remember the sensation of my heart pounding, to the point I could hear them with my ears. From across the room, I made a spilt second eye contact with my father and my legs moved on their own. I ran and ran 'till I bumped into one of the men carrying mom.

Impossible. 

I felt my lips tremble, as tears filled my eyes and the men placed her down on the ground. People had gathered outside our front gates and were staring at me but I didn't care. How could I when the person in front of me is cold, expressionless and just lifeless? Something came up onto my throat, and I let out a small whisper, "Why?" Someone places their hand on my back and asks me if I'm okay but it just feels so cold. 

Everything was cold. 

I sobbed, letting out my voice, letting out the sadness within me that seemed so endless. Everyone just stared at me with pity.

In the funeral, I was glaring daggers at Mina. She looked away whenever she accidentally made eye contact with me. She was probably guilty, because it was partially her fault mom had suicided. Naturally, I blamed her and was angry with her. My father was neutral, as if it was an everyday thing. He received condolences from people and even joked with a few of them, which spiked my anger even more. From that day onwards, my father was the subject of my hatred, the reason I lost my happiness.

Yet, I couldn't just stop what I was doing. I continued going for lessons and worked hard in school, because it occupied me from thinking things I shouldn't, it ke