in a too cold house
in a too cold house
Jungho manages to stumble to his room and close the door after himself before collapsing on the cold floor. He doesn’t even have the energy to roll out the ratty mattress he’s been using since he was seven. He’s seventeen now and a house that used to have 5 kids is now cold and empty with just himself and his father.
One by one they left, he watched them leave. After his mother died, his father practically drove them out with his drinking benders and wild rages that left half the house broken and bruises scattered across his children’s bodies. His oldest brother stayed the longest. He used to look out for Jungho, pushing him out of sight when their father came home drunk, sleeping up against Jungho’s back at night, a reassuring warmth in a house that was always too cold. His sisters both moved as soon as they graduated high school, the younger of his two older brothers didn’t even stay through high school, instead running away to work as a shipyard worker in Busan with a friend. The day his oldest brother left was Jungho’s first day of high school. The first day Jungho hit someone. The day he realized he was alone in the world, that there was no one who was going to protect him anymore. So he found his own ways to protect himself. Every morning before school he put on his tough image like an extra layer of his Seungri High uniform. He wonders what the kids at school would think if they saw that bastard, Oh Jungho, now.
A bitter laugh escapes his lips but it turns into a strangled whimper as the action shoots a stabbing pain through his ribcage and he curls inwards upon himself reflexively. He hesitantly pulls up his shirt to assess the damage and winces. The red and purple bruises that pepper his torso are already acquiring a yellow tinge; hey spread like a ghastly painting from just above his hip halfway up the right side of his ribs where his father’s well aimed kicks had marked him. The punches to his stomach are still making him feel nauseous, but he knows from experience that puking with a cracked rib is damned painful so he swallows and squeezes his eyes shut until the sick feeling passes.
From the other side of the room his phone buzzes faintly from inside a jacket pocket. Probably Yikyung or Jihoon checking up on him, he thinks guiltily. He had told them he’d meet them at their usual street food cart over an hour ago, but his father had started drinking earlier than expected and he’s been even more volatile lately, probably due to Injae calling his house so often. Jungho wishes she would just leave him and his family alone. It’d be better for everyone, he thinks.
Except... despite the terrible things he’s said and done to her, despite her maddening naivety—
if he’s honest, Jungho doesn’t hate her. Because despite all his attempts to get her to leave him alone, she continues doggedly on, undeterred, trying to get him to graduate, to not give up. He operates under the belief that no one is going to take care of him but himself, and until Jung Injae no one had done anything to prove him wrong so far. She challenges his basic philosophy of the world.
At first he thought she was one of those teachers that acts like they care about you but in reality they just want you to disappear. But she’s not. He has to reorganize his world to account for her and that’s not something he does lightly. She fills him with a confusing mix of frustration (for her naivety), hope (if he dares to hope), and fear (because if someone believes in him, he has someone to disappoint and even if he sincerely tries he’ll probably fail. Because he feels himself slowly beginning to trust her and that’s dangerous because what will he do if he relies on her and she lets him down?). She makes him anxious, mad, grateful all at once, and it kind of drives him crazy.
He lies there, in his too cold bedroom, on his too cold floor, shivering and in pain. You’re really a piece of work Oh Jungho, he thinks grimly, willing himself not to cry.
He hears his father curse loudly as something heavy falls in the kitchen. He hates the involuntary flinch that shoots a sharp pain into his injured rib. How did it get to this this, he wonders wearily. With some effort and a good amount of pain, Jungho reaches into his back pocket for his wallet. Flipping it open tiredly, he pulls out the picture with the worn edges he keeps behind his collection of fast food coupons and a picture of Lee Hyori he thinks he remembers stealing from his brother when he was younger. He holds it close to his face.
“Mom” he whispers softly, the image of the softly smiling woman blurring as he tries even harder not to cry. “Mom, I miss you.”
Jungho pushes away a frustrated tear, “Mom, if you’re watching, you’re probably so disappointed in me. Everyone is disappointed in me, I’m disappointed in me. But I’m just trying to take care of myself. And dad. You understand right? Why I can’t leave like the others? He’s my father and I’m the only one left.”
He sniffles quietly, glad no one can see the tears now freely falling. They form tracks across the bridge of his nose, down the side of his face to drip finally onto the floor.
“But mom,” he continues, “there’s a teacher at school that cares about me. Maybe. She reminds me of you. She has your hands. They’re delicate and small. She even hits like you do,” he smiles ruefully, “Don’t worry she only hit me because I deserved it.”
The woman in the picture continues to smile gently at him. “Her eyes are bright and kind like yours, Mom. She’s just a tiny, weak girl, but thinks she can take on injustices of the world. Mom, she’s like you.”
He gives one last look at the picture before slipping it back in his wallet. But mom, he thinks, it’s only a matter of time before she abandons me, like you. No, it’s better not to trust in Injae, because after all what can she really do?
His cell phone buzzes again and he reaches for his jacket reluctantly as he tries to ignore the pain.
The first message is an agitated text from Yikyung as he guessed, but the second is not.
[8:46PM] Jung Ssaem: Jungho-yah, you came to school well today. Shall we make it a habit? See you tomorrow~
Jungho’s mouth twitches as he tries to supress a smile. He closes his phone without responding but doesn’t delete the message. He hasn’t deleted any of her messages.
끝.
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