Hyunwoo sat in the front pew of the church, his hands clasped in his lap, his back rigid as he stared straight ahead with his jaw set. It was his father’s funeral service, and he honestly didn’t want to be there. He was turning twenty the next day... If he had to spend yet another birthday in mourn over a lost parent, he swore to himself that he was going to turn into one of those psychopathic murderers. Or maybe something close to that: death didn’t seem to mix well with him.

“Today, we gather in honor of Mr. Lee...” The priest went on and on, droning on about all the great deeds Hyunwoo’s father had done, the perfect life he lead... Couldn’t the priest see it, though? How messed up his father was? Hyunwoo didn’t have a life after his mother died, and sure, it was partly his fault for having such a soft heart, but if his father hadn’t been lost in grief and sadness until he died, maybe Hyunwoo would’ve been happier. Maybe.

They asked Hyunwoo to speak at the service. He declined, saying it would be too emotional for him, when in reality he just didn’t want to lie to everyone about his father. His father wasn’t this great hero everyone perceived him to be. Hyunwoo figured he cried himself to his death, the grief of losing his wife too much on his poor little old man heart, and it just collapsed. Sure, he was sad that his father was gone, but not as sad that he couldn’t be happy now.

“Lee Hyunwoo, his son, is here today, in honor of his father,” That was Hyunwoo’s cue to stand, which he did, and then he bowed lightly to everyone in the room. He saw his mother in one of the ladies in the front row, dabbing at her eyes, sniffling as she looked upon Hyunwoo. But it wasn’t his mother... No, it was his father’s mother. What a waste.

Without skipping a beat, Hyunwoo moved away form where he sat and walked in a brisk pace down the aisle towards the exit. He heard the priest falter in his speech, the muffled murmurs of the crowd gathered in the church, the shuffling of people turning in their seats, but he kept walking. He walked right out of the church, tugging at the tie that hung from his neck, one that had become a noose for him, and burst through the doors. They slammed behind him, and he stood for a moment in the bright sunlight of the day, soaking in the warmth and normality that flowed from the sun’s rays.

Hyunwoo rushed down the steps, his dress shoes clicking lightly on the pavement as he nearly ran to his house, fumbling uneasily as he reached into his pocket for the keys to his house. He unlocked the door and burst into the house, glancing around at the scene before him. Everything was the same as it was before his father passed away. Nothing was out of place, Hyunwoo knew, but that would all change. With determination, Hyunwoo set himself in course to his father’s old office. Only once he was standing in front of the door did he feel a sudden wave of hesitation wash over him. Should he do it? Yes. He needed to get it out of his system before he did something else.

Throwing the door wide open, Hyunwoo set to work. He grabbed all of the papers on his father’s desk, tossing them into a pile in the middle of the floor. The grabbed all of the books on the bookshelves, tossing them with the papers, throwing everything that his father had touched into the pile of unwanted memories. Finally, he came upon the picture his father held many a time to his chest, and Hyunwoo felt tears welling up in his eyes. There was his mother’s picture, her looking more beautiful than Hyunwoo ever knew she could look. The picture was taken on her wedding day, he noticed, and she was leaning lightly against a tree with a far off look in her eyes, a small, dreamy smile planted on her bright red lips.

Hyunwoo sat on the ground, cross-legged, staring at the picture and soaking up every single detail. The bright white of her dress, the Chinese red of her lips, the forest green of the tree she was leaning upon, her chestnut brown hair falling into perfect little curls over her shoulders. Blinking, a tear fell onto the glass as Hyunwoo stared, his mind racing. He slowly looked up form where he sat, his eyes scanning the almost bare room. There, beside him, sat the large pile of his father’s belongings, but his most precious belonging sat in Hyunwoo’s hands. His mother looked so beautiful, it was just too hard to take his eyes off of the picture, but finally he tore himself from the picture and set to work.

Running into the kitchen, Hyunwoo grabbed a fe trash bags, the picture never once leaving his hand. He went back to the office, kneeled on the ground, and then began shoving item after item into the bags. Once all of them were full, the walls and shelves completely bare, all of his father’s belongings save the picture tucked into a trash bag, Hyunwoo stood and brought them to the front door. One by one, he brought them outside and around the corner to the nearest dumpster, tossing them inside with all of the neighborhood’s unwanted trash. Each bag he heaved over the rim, he felt a new emotion fill him, one he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Misery.

Once back inside his house, Hyunwoo collapsed onto the couch and clung to his mother’s picture, crying softly into a pillow. There he stayed, and soon he cried himself to sleep. When the funeral service was over, his aunt came in to find the boy clutching his mother’s picture to his chest, fast asleep, dried tears on his cheeks. She left him there, placed a note on the kitchen table, and then left without a word, leaving the boy to be with himself in grief.

⎛ end ⎠