You stared at the man in front of you, utterly perplexed as to why he would so violently react to seeing the father hit his son. You looked down at your notepad and then back at him. Moon Jongup’s face had scratches and bruises from when the father had tried to defend himself. “Jongup, what happened?” you asked him.

            The man in front of you gave you a long haunted look and you waited patiently, knowing that he would need time. He clenched his fist and in an almost monotone voice, he started to speak.         

            “He nearly killed me. He killed my mother but that wasn’t enough. He wanted to kill me too. It was all he ever screamed. “Die! You useless thing, can’t you see that I don’t want you alive? Why can’t you just crawl into a corner and disappear?” Every day, it was a mantra in my ears. It was all I heard. He had the same look in his eyes whenever he looked at the fly buzzing around the house. He wanted to harm, to injure, to kill.”

            You wrote furiously, knowing that what you were hearing was more than just a confession; it was also the story of someone who had suffered. You watched him as he continued to speak. “I still remember the day he choked me. It was right after he’s drank too much and he lost all his senses. But he was still in his mind enough to know that he still has one more victim to get rid of. It was always a new weapon. He had an array of ideas. If it wasn’t with his hand, it would be with his belt. He also liked using his lighter. I still have the marks.” Jongup rolled up his sleeves and on his muscular arm you saw the burn marks.

            There were severe burns on his flesh, scars that have puckered, faded into pink, reopened and you winced. From his appearance, one could never have guessed.

            “I hated him but back then I couldn’t do anything. I was still too young, too small to do much impact. I could only harbor the hate in my heart and pray that I could survive to avenge myself, and my mother.”

            You wanted to ask if his father had really killed his mother but kept quiet. You knew better than to interrupt someone when they were spilling. There was a clenching in his jaw and you stared at him, trying to see if he would react somehow. Jongup stared ahead and let out a bitter chuckle.

“I was already used to the fact that he hated me. But it was a miracle to know just how much. What father would hate his son? But he was angry at everything, he wanted nothing to do with my mother and I looked too much like her. When he comes back from work, he would reach for a drink and then look for ways to hit me. I guess it’s safe to say I got used to it.”

            You clucked your tongue in sympathy. Jongup looked at you for a second. “Do I look like an abused child?” He leaned forward and you realized how far you had strayed from the original purpose of this interview. You shook your head and he smirked in satisfaction.

            “Good because I promised myself I wouldn’t let him know how he affected me. I made it a goal to be my own person and forget about what he has done to me. I don’t need him in my life. But sometimes, at night, I can still hear the screams. I know when he wants to come after me. It’s like a nightmare that would not end. I can feel every etch of the belt notch against my skin. It hurts.”

            Jongup’s voice had cracked and you leaned back in your seat, waiting for him to continue speaking. He shook his head and continued to speak. “When I grew older, I was able to fight back. He hated me more then. He would hit me and if I fought back, he would start throwing furniture.” He pointed at a faint scar near his eyebrow.

            “This was from the leg of a chair. It was particularly hurtful because I had come home with medication for his sickness. But he threw it right back at me and started throwing punches. There wasn’t much I could do. I tried to forgive him. He was sick, after all. But that was when he threw the chair at me. It grazed my face, and I had to get stitches. The doctor said I was lucky not to have my eyes permanently damaged. I never forgave him after that, for taking my good intentions and turning it into this.”

            Jongup took a deep breath and then smiled at you. He shrugged. “But that’s why I hit that man when I saw him hitting his son. No father should do that to his child and I didn’t want him to suffer like I did. I know what I did was wrong and you can feel free to arrest me or do whatever, but as long as I helped him, I think I did right.”

            Your mouth opened and then you shook your head. “I’m not going to arrest you. I just want you to know that you won’t be alone from now on. If you don’t mind, I’m more than willing to take care of you. You see, I was hit too.” You rolled up your sleeves to show similar bruise marks. “I know how it feels, and if I had been there, I would have tried to stop the father as well.”

            You smiled and stood up. “I don’t blame you, Jongup. I understand where you were coming from. But you can get over it. I promise. Take my hand?”

            He looked at your exposed arm for a second longer and you finally saw a genuine smile spread across his face as he took your hand.

this is for LittleShawn

currently watching Reply 1997 and SO in love with Seo In Guk and Eunji is amazing aghadjaffada