Track 7|Gloomy Mornings

Son Naeun

Naeun woke up in cold sweat.

She didn’t quite remember what she had dreamt of but she can feel the little trembling all over her body. It felt like her heart has gone out on somewhere, not knowing where it was supposed to go. It felt like someone had drawn something. The sound of the pen falling was drumming in the back of her mind. Like an anxiety attack, she didn’t know what she was supposed to do or where she should go.

And suddenly, she felt it. The tears pouring in her cheeks.

Why was she crying? Was it about her hard life? Her mother? Why? The questions were all over her mind, begging for answers from the hazy cloud around her.

“It h-happened again… What’s happening to me?” Naeun muttered, sitting up and hugging her knees, letting the tears flow freely. There’s no way she could stop it anyway. After a few moments, the tears stopped and she could once again move freely, although the feeling of losing something, or someone, was still lingering in her fingertips.

Gathering up her feet on the only rest day she had, she took a random pencil in her desk table. She took her preferably old sketchpad that only had a few pages left. Slowly, she started making and lines and shades. She didn’t get what she was drawing at first. It was all about her feelings, her feelings that ended up showing right in front of her.

In about thirty minutes, she stopped, seemingly cannot go on. There’s no sense in it. Her hand could no longer lift the pencil.

“W-what is it this time again…?” She exasperatedly spoke out loud, resting her head on her arms, staring at the portrait she just drew.

It wasn’t someone.

It was something.

“Night… Good night.” She whispered to herself, as if it was the name of the art. No, someone told her that… on that night she just drew.

“Just what am I missing? What?!”

Feeling as if she was gonna lose herself, Naeun didn’t speak anything. She couldn’t. She let it took over her body one last time… the loneliness and abandonment.

And then suddenly, the door opened.

“You should eat well… you barely weigh anything.” The high schooler muttered as the two sat down on the old wooden bench in the manor. Two