memories

One of the Boys
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“It is by no means an irrational
fancy that, in a future existence,
we shall look upon what we think
our present existence, as a dream.”
—Edgar Allan Poe

 

                         

OUR past experiences hold a lot of meaning and thoughts to them. Yet we as humans fail in establishing which experiences are worth recalling and which are not. Sometimes we fail to see how we forget the little things, in fear of remembering the bigger—darker things that surround that experience. A person lost should never only be dwelled on how they were lost. The happy moments and times should always outlast and outshine the sad. If we only remember their passing; we do little to nothing in honoring all the gifts they left behind in the form of their life.

 

 

 

“Can we have kimchi jigae tonight?”

I had been lying on the sofa, sprawled out on top the moment I got home. Jinyoung did find out about my skipping of class and how I tried to have the school nurse lie for me. Unlike before, I had been punished due to how he was chewed out by Mr. Yu this morning for being so lenient with me. He only did it because he was being watched and if neither I nor Jimin ever got punished; he knew favoritism was in play. I needed to clean my classroom this coming Saturday.

Jisung had come home not that long ago, and he bounced up to the edge of the couch where my head laid and asked me the question. He was staring down with his innocent and sweet face. I moved to a seated position, allowing him to sit beside me.

“Kimchi jigae?”

“Yeah, Chenle said it was his favorite Korean stew, but I’ve never had it before. I thought I should at least ask if you could make some tonight.”

I knew we never had it before. Kimchi jigae was also mother’s favorite stew. I guess it had been unspoken that we never eat it again. It wouldn’t be the same because no one could possibly make it like she used to. I figured how wrong our thinking was but we all mainly did it for our father.

“I think there’s a recipe for it in the kitchen. It should be fine, right?” Jimin had been sitting on the ground next to the sofa as he browsed the channels on the TV. He gave me this look that said he knew what I was thinking, and it was time we stopped worrying that any thought of her would make dad cry and start living how she wanted us to. With a smile on our faces in remembering her.

“I guess we’re having kimchi jigae tonight. But I don’t know if we have all the ingredients. We didn’t make kimchi this last Chuseok.”

I had fallen ill with the flu and none of my brothers took up the chore of making kimchi. Their reasoning was that it wouldn’t be as good as how I make it. I knew that was a bunch of bull and they all were just too lazy to do it themselves.

“I can ask Irene if she can take me to the store to buy the ingredients. I really want to try this.”

Jisung stood up before either me or Jimin could say anything else. He was out the door before I could even blink. He was too excited for this, and it made me happy seeing him so excited over something so small. I only let out a sigh because I had not opened mother’s recipe book for a long time.

“He’s more like her than any of us. Watch it become his favorite.” Jimin mumbled and I nodded, falling back to my original position.

Jisung looked the most like her out of all of us. He also had this gentle demeanor that was like her too. The rest of us were rather rowdy and loud. The opposite of what my mother was.

I closed my eyes, trying to recall where I had put the recipe book. I was stressed already, and the semester had only barely started. It was a crime to have this much stress on just the second week of school.

I slid my body enough so my head would hang down. I needed the extra blood rushing to my head. Giving my brain more oxygen was never a bad idea. I could faintly hear how Jimin decided on a channel to watch—a rerun of Gag Concert was heard through the speakers. His small laughs soon came. I smiled, only listening and opened my eyes.

My heart nearly jumped at seeing the upside-down face of Sehun. He was sitting down with his legs crossed and too close. I spun and fell off the couch, feeling my cheeks heat up from having him be so close to my own face. I ended up hitting Jimin on the head with my feet. A small “ouch” was heard as he then smacked my leg.

“Oh, hey Sehun. Where’s Yeol?”

Sehun had stood up and I was in the process of the doing the same when he pointed towards the kitchen. I had not even heard the door open and maybe that was why I was surprised by seeing Sehun in our home.

“Are you staying for dinner, then?” I asked Sehun who shrugged, walking closer to me.

“Depends on what you’re making." He smirked, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. His cologne attacked my sense. I wasn’t complaining because I loved how he smelled.

“We’re making kimchi jigae.” Jimin was now sitting on the sofa I had been previously occupying.

“You’re kidding?” Chanyeol stuck his head out of the kitchen doorway, halfway through eating a banana. I nodded. “Why so suddenly?”

“Jisung.”

“One of Jisung’s friends, Chenle, told him about it and he realized he never had it, so he asked Joy.”

Jimin explained more than I did as I simple said Jisung’s name.

“Say no more, if its Jisung of course we’ll have it.” Chanyeol finished his banana, and I could hear him rummaging through the fridge for food to hold him over.

“Ah, that’s why we saw him running next door.” Sehun spoke aloud to himself.

I snuck out of his hold and headed to the cabinet in the kitchen where I had last seen the recipes my mother kept. The close steps behind me let me know Sehun was right behind me. I reached the cabinet, opening it. It was still there. I gently took it out and searched for the kimchi jigae recipe in the card. I could easily look up a recipe, but I wanted the one my mom would always make. Hers always tasted better than anyone else’s and I know that was a personal bias. I had six other people who agreed with me.

“Your mom’s favorite was kimchi jigae, right?”

I nodded. Sehun was leaning on the counter with his arms crossed, looking down at me. I never felt odd speaking about my mom with him. Everyone else who wasn’t my brothers or father, I would avoid ever mentioning her. Maybe it was because he was there when it all happened.

Oh Sehun lived down the road from us—about five houses down. He was an only

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Namjoonadmirer
#1
Chapter 4: I hooked by this story. It’s similar to my imagination for having brothers only. The flower before boys. ^_^