NINETEEN
 

Sadness,

Was the first word that would appear for hearing thousands of unyielding roars that were now happening.

 

Regret,

 

Was the perfect word to describe her, who’s still trying to grip that red fluid on the floor.

 

Pain,

 

As if rushing out to fill the dark dusty room that was reluctant enough to present even a little bit light of life there.

 

But it wasn’t an empty stare that could explain all of it. It wasn’t a soul that’s detached from a body capable of interpreting all emotions. It wasn’t him, the middle-aged man, could grasp the regrets a woman in front of him now suffered from.

Denying a hand of life to help bring back his sanity, he chose to drown in sorrow. He chose to be drowned.

 

That roaring was loud, but not to his hearing. To him, a voice of regret for what had been engraved on that girl, sounded a lot louder. Echoed. And that's the reason why he was voicing it, begging, asking, saying,

 

“I'm sorry.”

 

His voice was sunk in sorrowful words, the exact same one he had just said.

 

“I'm sorry.” This time his voice sounded clearer, because the girl's cries had suddenly vanished. The girl's voice was suddenly inaudible. The room was once again noiseless. The silence that brought back mounts of sadness. The silence, that choked him.

 

“I'm sorry.”

 

His hand that had been supporting his body fell weakly on the floor as he bowed, begging for forgiveness. He was shaking dreadfully. “I didn’t mean to. I-I didn’t mean to-”

 

And it finally flew out of his mouth.

 

Like water on a barrier that had been stored for too long, once being released it could throw anything around.

 

The thing that he kept for years,

…that always haunted his nights and darkened his mornings.


 

___

 

He kept on running.

 

Down on a narrow street with motorcycle trail that still looked fresh, as sign it wasn’t that long ago got passed by. He stared straight ahead. The little alley seemed to have no end, it was too long for him. The alley felt too hefty for his heart.

 

He turned his head to the back for the first time, his chest suddenly felt heavy. He couldn’t bear to look back and more incapable of thinking about how bad he was as a human, letting other people get hurt by him.

 

He called his guy, asking to immediately send help to the little girl who was still hugging her father the time he left them behind. His guy immediately did what he was told to do.

 

He let out a heavy breath, trying to convince his own heart that the person was still alive. Trying to encourage --with a bit of  lie- himself that what he was doing was the right thing to do. And with that in mind, he continued to run, down the endless street alone, still following those trails,

...with encouragement that slowly faded away.
 

---

 

“How is it going?” Mr. Park panted, asking his guys. Police line was already stretched around him, as sign that no one’s allowed to go pass the area other than those in check. His chasing still didn’t get any satisfying result as Bin still managed to escape from him. Moreover, his encouragement was already too thin to be ignored before hurting himself. That's why he went back, to this place where he last saw them.

 

He went back for that little girl.

 

His guy was saluting him as a sign of respect before replying, “They’ve been taken to the nearest hospital, Sir!”

 

“Take me there.”

 

“Sir, yes Sir!”

 

He got on the car hurriedly. The trip to the hospital was dreadfully long for him, when they finally arrived he checked the time and a bit surprised that the ride was less than twenty minutes nonetheless it felt like hours.

 

“Where's that victim of shooting?”

 

The nurse who got startled by the somewhat a rushed question, responded kindly, “The one with a little kid?”

 

“Yes, yes, that one!”

 

“Oh, they're in room 5, just turn right on th-”
 

“Thank you!”

 

“B-but sir-”

 

Mr. Park rushed to there right away without hearing any further explanation.

Number 5, number 5... there it is!

 

He opened the curtain that enclosed the small room,

…only to find another white cloth covering a person from head to toe.

 

He gasped at an instant.

 

Gasping for air to fill his lungs that now felt stuffy. He held that cover not daring to unmask it, He’s not brave enough to see what it covered. Drops of warm water fell from his eyes, slowly dampened that white cloth, making it slightly imprint the lifeless body lying beneath.

 

“I'm sorry.” He said softly.
 

He tightened his grip on the white cloth, he blamed his own stupidity. He, who should’ve saved someone’s life, had twisted to snatch it instead. On top of that, he took the life of a father who had nothing to do about the whole thing. A father who was forced to leave his little girl.

 

That girl!
 

He wiped off the tears that wetting his cheeks before sprinting outside hurry,

 

“Excuse me, do you know where the little kid who’s with the shooting victim is?”

 

Again, he asked the nurse, “Sorry Sir, I don’t know.”

 

“But you said befor- !” Mr. Park unconsciously cursed, spilling his frustration to the quiet floor by kicking it. He then ran to all directions, asking the same question.

 

From endless of people he had asked, for countless answers he received, they would always be the same one, always shaking their heads while saying their sorry’s

 

Few hours had passed when he realized his legs were tired of running. So he stopped at the center of the crowd, he stopped himself in between passersby however not even once did he catch a glimpse of that kid who was crying because of him.

 

He was still standing there. Standing straight, although his heart already falling down. Standing there, staring into a distance only to find nothing.

 

Standing there,

 

...with drops of water dampening his floor.


 

___


 

The story flew out slowly, adding extra pain each time  a word come out from his wrinkled lips. Like a river that was forced to stop flowing and then abruptly flooded and drowned everything. Wiping out the wounds, getting rid of misunderstandings.

 

“I tried, but you were gone...”

 

“...I'm sorry.”

 

Seulgi froze, for she was too shocked to process this new information. How a cloggy blood of a girl’s in her hands, the outcome for years of waiting to finally get a revenge turned out to be a form of misunderstanding.

 

She scanned Mr. Park as a whole. This time’s intact. The destruction was so obvious that her own heart was crushed.

 

“Uncle...” Wendy stepped closer to the man. Just a step closer, then she stopped herself. She just didn’t know what to do. Witnessing the invisible cracks of him, no one knew what to do.

He seemed to get in a black hole that only him owned. Getting dragged without being able to escape. A black hole of regrets over the arrogance he once had. That gnawed his whole being,

 

...that killed his daughter.

 

His dearly loved daughter, the only light that kept him on going through this trashy world, the one who gave him smile whenever his heart was too tired to even beat.

 

His light had been taken away. His light had become a victim. And it was him who destroyed its shine.

 

The thought was eating him, transforming in form anger. An anger for his own self,

 

And so, he cried it out. In order to get rid of things that suffocated his chest. Where a heart had become a hollow that filled with various kinds of regrets. And so he cried it out,

 

“My baby girl!!!” He went crazy.

 

Crawling, he took the gun that Seulgi had dropped and approached her. His wrinkly fingers were reaching for her hand that’s reddened by blood, shoving the gun onto her shaking grip.

 

Seulgi felt like she’s in de javu as the man aimed that gun at himself, wailing and begging,

 

“Please...”

 

Seulgi gawked back staring at it. Unlike before, consciousness was now fast approaching her. Waking her up, telling her not to get too occupied in shock. She immediately released her grip on the gun, but then Mr. Park was quick to block.

 

“I can’t live without her,” Their hands clashed in a horrendous wrestle and painful one because of the injuries they got before.

 

Mr. Park used all his strength to imprison Seulgi's hands with his. With the muzzle of that gun was still pointing at him, he took control of all the feathery fingers that trembled awfully. Confusion was clearly visible on Seulgi’s face.
 

“...just take me to her.”

 

“Uncle!”

 

The trigger slowly moved.

 

***


 

“Uncle!”

 

“Please,”  The old man was still begging.

 

He forced Seulgi's finger to pull the trigger slowly. The battle of their hands occurred again when Seulgi, with all her might refused to give up, trying to free her hand from his firm grip.

 

Another hand quickly attached to hers, trying to help her to let go of it, trying to fight the still-strong middle-aged man,

 

Wendy’s

“Please Uncle, I beg you, don’t do anything stupid.”

 

Wendy tried to lure him. Giving thousands of choices so the stupid thing that haunted the man's head would disappear and replace by a consciousness that this wasn’t what his beloved daughter wanted. That what he’s about to do was just another useless shot.

 

“Sooyoung wouldn’t want you to be like this, Uncle.”

 

But the thousands reasons Wendy threw to him were instantly vanished by the millions of insanities which had taken place inside his wrinkled head. The cut that had been made were fueling his flames of anger. Anger that was still pointed direct