t w o

Soon, I learned more about the young lady named Yoon Bomi.

I learned that her mother had lost her life while battling to welcome her precious daughter to the world.

I learned that as a single parent, her father buries himself in his job in order to provide his prized daughter a good life.

I learned that she was always left alone with her nannies who came and gone as she grew up.

Most of all, I learned that Bomi’s seemingly perfect life was not really that perfect.

-

From a pink princess, Bomi slowly transformed into a tomboy instead. From the graceful ballet, she switched to taekwondo. The pretty dresses in her wardrobe were substituted with t-shirts and jeans and shorts, her pastel pink wallpaper with tiny little white daisies was replaced with simple sky blue wallpaper. Her dolls were soon gone, and I was the only one left ― the sole reminder of her girlish childhood.

When I first noticed her transformation, I became scared. Seeing her other toys being kept in a box, I became wary that I might be the next one to go.

But she let me stay just where I was, and at nights she would still hold me as she fell asleep.

I was her best friend ― someone that she confided in. She told me every single detail of the events happening in her life. She told me about her day at school; which subjects she liked and which she didn’t, who her friends were and what they were like, who bullied her, who she liked, who she detested, and every other thing.

She told me everything, right from her favourite puns, to her deepest, darkest secrets.

-

When Bomi was eleven, her father remarried.

He delivered the news to her at the dinner table. It was one of those rare days where he decided to come home early for her. When she first heard the news from her father, she was genuinely thrilled. “Does that mean I will be getting a new mother?” she asked him, her eyes widened from excitement.

He hunkered down to reach her eye level, pat her head and ruffled her hair gently. “Yes, you’ll be getting a new mother,” he replied, smiling.

Bomi was so happy that she couldn’t finish her meal, but instead ran to her room and picked me up before twirling around on her bed while hugging me.

“Ho-yaa, did you hear? Appa said I’m getting a new umma soon!” she beamed.

Do you like it that much? I wanted to ask, although the answer was already written on her face.

“I’m getting a new umma!” she cried, collapsing on her bed. She looked at me and giggled.

Bomi was so happy that she couldn’t sleep that night, but instead threw me a thousand questions about what her new mother would be like despite knowing that I could answer to none.

Bomi was so, so happy, that she gave me a present right after she wakes up the next day. She brought in a sewing kit which she took from the maid’s room and sat me down on the floor opposite her. She then fished something out of her pocket and held it up in front of my eyes so that I could have a clear view.

It was a locket-like button which is shaped like a heart.

Carefully, she sewed it down on my right hand. It hurt at first, but thinking that the tomboy Bomi was taking time to sew the button on me herself, I tried to ignore the pain.

“There,” she exclaimed, just after she was done. She leaned in closer and admired it with a wide grin on her face. “This is my heart, and now I’m giving it to you,” she told me. Touching the tip of my nose, her expression turned serious. “You better take care of it,”

She then placed me on her bed before running outside to join her father who was already waiting. He had promised to take her out.

Sitting alone in the room, I gazed at the newly stitched heart shaped button on my sleeve and smiled. Don’t worry, Bomi. I’ll guard you with my life.