t h r e e

Bomi’s new mother was a lovely woman in her early 30’s. Her hair was long and smooth but she always kept it in a high bun. She was tall and stylish, looking every bit of a sophisticated modern Seoul lady. However based on what I heard from the maids’ hushed chatters as they cleaned Bomi’s room one day, despite her classy appearance, she did not actually come a wealthy family.

None of it matter, though. Because for me, and perhaps for Bomi as well, only one thing mattered.

She treated Bomi as if Bomi was a precious gem, pampering her just like a mother would. She would prepare breakfast in the mornings before Bomi left for school, welcoming her back home with a warm hug, reading story books or singing lullabies at night before Bomi falls asleep although everyone was aware that Bomi was already a little too old for that.

Sometimes she would cook Bomi’s favourite meals, or make some desserts even though she was not really that good at kitchen. Sometimes she would take Bomi out on evening strolls at the park, or bring her to the mall and buy Bomi things that she did not even need, making people envy the beautiful sight of the pair.

In short, she gave Bomi all the love Bomi had been missing out and craving for while growing up.

-

In the winter after Bomi turned twelve, her step mother announced that she was expecting. The whole household was overjoyed with the news. Even Bomi. Even the maids. Even me.

It was no secret that Bomi has always wished for a sibling. You see, growing up alone without a mother, and with her father hardly ever at home, she was pretty much a lonely child. Even at school, she didn’t have much friends. Based on what she told me, it’s not that she didn’t want to make friends, but she just didn’t know how to.

Which explained why I was her best friend. “Unlike human,” she said once, “you don’t judge,”

To be quite honest, I actually didn’t know how to react to that one. I suppose that perhaps I should be proud to be honoured that way, but then something inside me insisted that it wasn’t right. That she ought to find her own circle of friends. Real friends, rather than a teddy bear that could not speak.

Therefore, when I heard the news that Bomi will be getting a new sibling, I was truly happy. At least now she will have a real friend.

But then, there was this little voice inside my head that bugged me.

Now that she will have a company, will this be the end of my service?

-

I forgot, though, that sometimes not everything would turn out the way we originally planned it to be.

One summer day somewhere in August when Bomi’s step mother was seven months pregnant, appa decided to take the family out. Earlier that day, Bomi’s step mother ― umma, as I was supposed to call her, had her checkup done. Her baby was a girl, and the news delighted Bomi the most.

“I still keep my old toys. She can have all of them!” she said gleefully.

“All of them?” umma asked. “Even your teddy bear?”

“Not my teddy bear!” Bomi shook her head. “Everything except my Ho,”

Smiling, umma ruffled her hair and kissed her forehead. “Alright, anything except your Ho,”

Bomi was turning thirteen then, but even so, she still wouldn’t leave the house without bringing me along, except for school. Before boarding the car with her parents, she grabbed me and ran to them with me in her safe embrace.

It rained that morning despite it being summer, so the road was slippery. I was in the backseat with Bomi, sitting on her lap as she fell asleep. My eyes were locked on the outside view, amazed at scenery that I could rarely see.

My mind must be flying somewhere else, because I didn’t realize what happened. The last things I remembered were the screeching sound of the tires, and the blurry image of Bomi’s face covered in blood.

That day, Bomi lost her sister before they could even meet.