une.
Hallelujah
Yongguk's POV
The wind is bitter. I can understand completely why. You are mad. I can tell. The wind is always cold and trying to blow me over when I do something that you said I should never do.
Right now, my awful heart is split in two.
I exhale, watching almost mesmerized as the soft white cloud drifted to the heavens above, where I know you were frowning at me. You used to nag at me when I smoked; always saying that it would kill me one day.
Little did you know that it would kill you first.
I sigh again, the white puff of smoke leaving my lungs to meet the cold winter wind. It was a year today, and the yard still smells of burned dreams. As I stand next to the white mailbox, I gaze upon the rubble of wood and splinters. I can vaguely make out the outline of what was once your getaway place, as you liked to call it. It used to stand two stories, but now, it barely reached half of one.
I strode forward, careful to put out the rest of my cigarette on the asphalt of the road that lead to the small community that you so desperately wanted our children to grow up in. If only you knew then what you and I know now.
The stone pathway that lead up to what was once our front porch seems to be the only thing left intact. I can still see our hand prints. Each year we've been together, the two of us had to make a new stone and place our hand prints on it. It started out with just our two, but before we knew it, there were four. Each hand print was a different color. You loved colors, but you didn’t really like music all that much, which was strange considering you were so obsessed with the arts. You would have rather talked or stayed in complete silence compared to listening to music.
I used to love that quirk about you; I still do. You used to pout each time I would play loud rap music on our stereo. I would smile at the childish gesture and place a small kiss on your wrinkled forehead, smoothing it out instantly. You would eventually turn it off if I left the room for anything.
I smile at the memory, the familiar prickling sensation appearing behind my eyes.
I continue my journey up what was once our front porch. I remember when Ryu needed a haircut. He was four and wanted to be a rock star, hair tied in a loose ponytail. You stated very clearly that he was not going to be growing his hair out long. All you did was grab him and set him on the front step of the porch. A towel was wrapped securely around his shoulders, and as he struggled, he couldn’t stop you from cutting that small ponytail from the base of his neck. Then, he had no choice but to let you finish cutting his hair, making it shorter than the last time as punishment for his defiance.
I had laughed at you when you smiled triumphantly behind the boy’s back. Mina was attached to my hip, wondering why I was laughing. She didn’t think it was funny that her older brother was being punished. You had just given me that look; that soft look that seemed to also radiate defiance. I knew then not to say another word, but I couldn’t help that small smirk of knowing from appearing on my face.
I smile fondly at that particular memory. It was precisely a year before the tragedy that struck the household. I maintain my trek, now standing in what used to be our hallway. I can still see the wood panels of the hall and living room as well as the melted tile of the kitchen and hall bathroom. It seems so long ago in a dream, but the living proof is here as well as in the back yard.
I don’t know if I am ready for that.
I walk along what used to be the hallway until I see our bedroom. We had waited to get married until you graduated college and we could afford to buy a house. You wanted to make the best memories in that house, and most good memories start out with the honeymoon. This was our honeymoon getaway. I smile, remembering how much time we spent in the bedroom that first day, basically Christening it not even two hours after we said, “I do.”
I felt so right with you. We had not made love before hand, at your own request. You respected that aspect of marriage, and you were as timid about relationships as I was.
I am worse now.
I can honestly say that I have not looked at another man. I see you and only you. I see you standing there, hands on your hips, giving me that smile while the two kids are attached to your slender legs. I can still see your face when the sun hits it just right. Your pale skin glowed and your hair looked like it was made of silk. It felt like silk, too.
I swallow the lump in my throat as I exit what was our back door. There is a large pine tree in the middle of the backyard. You didn’t want it cut down, even though the contractor said that it would be a liability if it were ever knocked over in a storm. Little did he know that it was the only thing still standing after our tragedy. Your love for this tree protected it, I believe, just as your body tried to protect our two children.
Three stones stick out of the ground around the pine’s thick roots. The one in the middle is bigger than the other two. There is a space between you and the other. That is where mine will lay when my time finally comes. I wonder when that will be. Will I see you again? I wonder.
There is a small blue flag draped across your stone, hiding your name and date as well as the inscription that I had given you. The blue flag is adorned with a small white lamb with a gold cross.
I highly doubted, when I first met you, the concept of God. Each day I spent with you, I gained more insight of that figure that you called God. I began to believe you, but as I stand here, watching as the wind ruffles that thin flag, I doubt again. If there was a God, then why did he take you from this world? Why did he claim our children as well when they had their entire future ahead of them? Why did he leave me here to mourn you day in and day out?
I still don’t understand, and I probably never will.
I stride forward, my large hand grasping the thin cloth of the flag. You bought it a year after our marriage, saying that we needed it. I never understood why, but I let you hang it in the living room on the fireplace, the end just high enough to not catch flame.
I sigh, picking up the end of the flag to reveal your beautiful name. The date seems so ugly next to it, but the inscription seems to enhance the sorrow in my heart.
“Walk above the Heavens. Run through the clouds. Let your wings sore among the stars. Let your voice sing out Hallelujah.”
I gaze at it and the two markers next to you. A small wet trickle makes its way down my cheek. I smile.
“I love you. Hallelujah.”
author's note; Thanks for reading. i know zelo's character was a lot different... but i tried to make it go along with the powerful lyrics of the song. i hope you enjoyed.
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