Cold as Ice
Unchained
Youngjae’s P.O.V
“Son, came you come here for a minute?” I was just about to walk up the stairs when I heard my father’s voice. Damn, so close.
“Ne, father.” I turn on my heels. “What is it?”
He says nothing but gestures to the leather sofa. I start to feel a little nervous. The sofa means business; we almost never sit on it, so when we do it’s always a serious matter.
Reluctantly I place myself on the soft chair and sit forward so my elbows rest on my knees. I find myself playing with my fingers.
My father sighs and sits down opposite me staring at his reflection in the floor tiles. It’s completely silent for a moment.
“You know your schooling in important right?” He inquires abruptly and I have no idea why he’s asking such a thing.
I say nothing and just nod, he takes a deep breath. “But you know that the company is a priority also, right?”
“Yes,” I nod, “but, father what is this about?”
“The company,” he breathed, “ isn’t going to well. You’re mother and I decided that it’s best if we relocate it, to Japan.” He ran a shaky hand through his hair, “Which means, we have to relocate with it.”
“Wha- I..” I was cut of by my father speaking again.
“We need to go Youngjae, or we lose everything.”
This can’t be happening, not now, not ever. What about our life here? What about my life here? What about school? I don’t speak japanese. And what about Ha Rin? Oh, god, what about Ha Rin? She can’t take this, she’s starting to cope with the news about her brother, what’s going to happen to her?
“Father, is there a way, a possibility, that we can stay here?”
He sinks his head. “There is no other way.”
I can’t believe this. I need to see Ha Rin.
Ha Rin’s P.O.V
I came home to a silent house. Silence is never good.
“Oppa!” I call, throwing my book bag on the spot next to the door, “The troll is home.” I kick of my shoes and proceed inside. Silence. “Oppa?”
The air around me was so absent of sound my a high pitch ringing could be heard through my ears. “Hello?”
My feet are carrying me up the stairs, my heart is pounding so loudly.
A foot hits the top step and I heart the shower running; he must have been sick again today. He seems to be getting worse.
“Oppa!” I call out in attempt again; normally he would have answered me by now. I’m getting a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I find myself standing in front of the bathroom door. I knock to no answer so I press my ear against the wooden surface. All I can hear is water running; no movement at all.
“Oppa, are you in there?”
When I hear no response I find my fingers clasped around the doorknob and I have no idea who put them there. I open the door slowly.
What I see stops my heart completely, snatches all the breath from my chest, drives a knife right into my gut. What I see makes me die inside.
He’s clothed and on the the floor, not moving. I’m kneeling beside him, clutching his arm. “Oppa, wake up.” I’m shaking his arm rapidly. I can feel myself losing control, tears welling up in my eyes, my nose mimicking my tear ducts. “Oppa, please..”
I’m doing this over and over and there’s no response, there is never a response. I’m losing it. My sanity has been taken of with the wind along with any coherence I thought I had, any strength I thought I gained. It’s like there’s only one thing I know how to do, cry.
“Oppa…” I’m crying so hard and breathing so little that my voice comes out as a whimper. I’m trying everything to attempt to wake him, refusing to lose any inkling of hope. I’m nudging his arm, I’m gently slapping his face. Each time is more painful because there’s never a reaction. He doesn’t grumble like he always does when he’s woken, there’s no complaints, there’s no smile, there’s no laughter, there’s nothing.
I’m giving up. I’m having trouble breathing, I’m having trouble even moving as my hand finds it’s way to his. I’m clutching it to my chest. It’s so cold, his skin is as cold as ice.
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