Fate had played a terrible joke on me. A joke that gave me a second chance at life to do what I couldn't have done in the last. It didn't require anyone to laugh. Just someone who played the victim. Because-- everyone knows a joke needs a victim. Listening to my words don't sound as terrible nor frightening, right? But think of it like this, how would you feel if you stopped a person you love from doing what they love? At that situation, I was ready to die. I was ready to have my life cut. My death was for the continuation of his dream..

His dream was beautiful. It was as if a fairytale was trapped in him. A person like me who held no dreams couldn't have held him back. I wouldn't dare to.. not even today.

 

                                                                             

 

January the nineteenth, the day when my life slipped through my own fingers. When Miyeon's life, that hung on a single thread, was cut by the hands of Death and Fate.

Fate is such an ugly word.

The clouds formed together like a grey blanket that was draped on Earth and the rain timidly fell. What a fitting weather for a day like this, I cruelly joked to myself. I hung my gray, angel-winged hood over my head, tucking the head of a single sunflower into the pockets of the hood ,and walked quietly towards the gates of the cemetery. This graveyard had something in common with the other grave yards. The depressing and sad aura was everywhere, inevitable and unavoidable like the air we breathe.

I lifted my head up to see the rusted bars of the gate. Looking at it showed proof that the gates weren't replace nor renewed in the least decade. Gazing past the rusting imagery of the gates were the rows and columns of rectangular, thin tombstones. Each were evenly spaced-out but barely enough room left for a person to even visit their deceased loved one.  One of them is mine's-- Miyeon's.

Was I ready for this? Am I ready to see my very own tombstone for the first time? Even though I asked myself these questions, did I really have a choice to even say no?

I closed my eyes and heaved out a breath. I realized through-out this whole time, I was breathing shallowly. Raising my right hand's pale, shaking fingers to grasp at the handle of gate and hurled it open.

*Squeak*

The dry, dead-filled air blown towards my face, and the smell of dirt and sorrow stenches up the place. It was as if taking a few steps forward, following the graveled path, would've made a huge difference to when I had yet to enter the place. Every now and then, someone weeping and another wailing. At the most simplest words put together, it was not a melody to one's ears.

For once, I wanted to be at that 'any place' but here. Anyone would've wanted to be anywhere but here.

Yet here I was, in front of my very own tombstone. It was clean and well kept, distinctive from the rest in this row. As if someone risked coming here everyday just to keep it in this condition. I kneeled down onto the dirt to rub my cold, pale fingers along the edges of the tombstone. It was small, indeed. I placed my hands in the hoodie's pocket, revealing the earlier tucked away sunflower. Lightly brushing my fingers on the petals, I leaned it in front of the tombstone, having it stand on its stems. It wasn't in the best condition but in the end, it was for me after all. Examining it's features along with the stone, my eyes finally strolled down toward the readings on it:

                                                                     

R.I.P. Park Miyeon

December 11, 1995 - January 19, 2009

"To our beautiful daughter, there were only 14 years of us being together.
We wish there were more years to come. Thank you for being our daughter.
We love you and always will."

                                                                        
 

I held my breath and tried hard not to stare at it long. If I did, my tears would've rolled down my cheeks as they already threatened to fall. Over and over, I read that one passage until the vision of their words blurred at the cause of these tears. I forgot all about them, all about my parents. The parents who warmly loved me and cared for me. The parents that every child wanted. My breath became unstable as I tried to apologize for forgetting them and to tell them how much I've missed them.

"Umma... Appa...," I sorrowfully whispered. "I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry," The threatening tears were already falling down my cheeks, and onto the dirt.

"I miss you guys so much. How have you been? I hope you have been living well... umma, appa" I cried through each words and called for them again.

Their names didn't sound right coming from me, Jung Ha Nuel, but I kept calling for them regardless. Even when it was painful. They weren't my parents anymore.

In reality's books, I never had loving parents. I never had them. But what was reality? Did I even have a right to call this reality?

They don't know me and they expected me to not know them. Repeatedly, I called for my-- Miyeon's parents. It was only right to call them that now. I apologized, until the words no longer sounded like words but sobs. At that moment, while I was kneeling and atoning for something I didn't mean to do, I was already apologizing to someone who no longer knew where or who I was.

                                                                                                 

♜ ℳｉｎｓｏｏ'ｓ ｎｏｔｅ
Is it good so far? I'm satisfied at the very least. Some of the sentences are kind of ... confusing.
I'll have someone read it later and revise it better for me. Aside from that, thank you for reading the first chapter.
I'll be writing the second one soon.
 

Last updated: July 08, 2012