The windowsill is cold.

A tiny hole on the edge of the wood t allows the winter wind to pass through and took the temperature of its surrounding down with each blow. And I’ve been sitting there, ignoring the cold, patiently keeping a continuous stare on the front porch all day long. Yes, I’ve been waiting.

For who?

For him, of course. Always for him.

‘Itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout’

“Hello Ahreum.” He came up to me and tussled my hair a little before dumping himself, shoes and all, on the bed. It disturbs me how little he regards of his personal hygiene, but well, there’s really nothing much I can do about it.

“I did it. I finally did it. Can you believe that? I went to the audition!” He reached down to his backpack and takes out a rumpled sticker with his name and a five-digit number on it, “Look, Do Kyungsoo, auditionee number 022. Cool, isn’t it?”

He winks at me as he put the sticker under a stack of mismatched socks on his bedside drawer, “Don’t tell anyone. It’s our secret. Okay?”

He sees it, I know he sees it, the usual smile that seems to always sit on my lips whether I want it or not. With that, he smiles back at me before flinging himself back on his bed.

His smile for me is always crooked, somehow, someway. An odd smile that’s always being accompanied with a slight shake of his head. It ticks me off, the sheer amount of desire for me to un-crook his smile. I want to see his old smile and I want to hear more of his chatters. I want the old Kyungsoo back.

But I guess he’s happy now.
Look at him, auditioning for a chance to be a star. Finally standing up for himself and doing things the way he likes it. I remember how bright his face would lit up when he told me why he wants to be famous, how bad he really wants it.

Look. Even he’s doing it now. That beaming smile that he gives to the ceiling as he tells me the story of his audition shenanigans. A sincere smile, that’s a smile I want to see.

But there’s nothing much for me to do, really.

I’ll just sit there, on the windowsill, doing my best to block the tiny crack and shield him from the blowing winter wind.

‘Down came the rain and washed the spider out’

Turns out the howl of winter will be the least of his problems. Because as spring comes and makes the flowers bloom, the smile on his face would only grow dimmer and dimmer.  © Alana, R 2013. all rights reserved.

Although I clearly remember the moment when the sun seemed to rise on his face. The only time where he dashed into his room, jumping and screaming like a maniac as he grabbed me off the windowsill and twirls me around, raining me kisses wet with tears.

“I’m in, Ahreum, I’m in! Oh my God I’m in!” His overly enthusiastic scream still echoes inside me. Oh, how I wish I could give him a fitting facial expression to respond to that. A wide grin, perhaps? A proud smile, maybe? I’m really sorry for he could only see this generic smile on my face congratulating him.

But that sudden outburst in the middle of January was basically it. The next few weeks he still looked ecstatic. But when March came, the sun in his face had set, and the night sky seemed to be so bleak.

Then one day, what I’ve always feared came true. I’ve been worrying that he would come home with a drizzle on his face. But that day, he comes home with a hurricane.

The doorknob turns slowly as he tries his best to make the least noise possible to not wake anybody up as his sobbing is already quite distracting. It’s 1 A.M in the morning and the last thing in his mind is for everyone in his house to wake up and raise a ruckus over his current state.

He walks toward me. Slowly, and with a clear limp. There is a wince on his face everytime he steps on his left foot.

Slowly, he moves his hands away from his mouth and carefully lifted me off the windowsill.

He sits me down on the middle of his study desk, as he himself struggles to locate the wooden stool that sprawls carelessly on the other side of the room. Well, the skinny slivers of moon rays are all there is to help him see. In the end, he gives up and kneeled before the desk.

He doesn’t say a word, not a single word. From my point of view, all I can see is his heaving chest underneath a stained grey shirt. I can hear his sharp breathing and deep, frustrated sighs. I can feel his fingers softly raking through my bouncy curls, gleaming wonderfully under the moon.

Then, I can feel the rain.

On my hair, on my porcelain skin, on the glass beads that are my eyes, giving me a distinctive look of darker colored stripes.

“Ahreum,” he manages to mumble my name through his gritted teeth.

He starts to laugh when his voice begins to break, “I really miss you.”

With a small, hiccup like chuckle, he placed his finger onto my back where a brass lever was located. Softly, he cranked it, filling me with mechanical clacks with each turn.

When he finally lets go, the mechanics inside me produces a tinkle, resounding out and bouncing off the walls in a form of whimsical tune.

He begins to hum alongside the music. While still raking his fingers on my hair, he puts his head down on the table.

His voice has always been perfect, like a newly polished marble. I never had to worry of him going off tune while he sings, but that night, his voice is crooked. Filled with sways and drops, shrill highs and low lows. Crooked and ill fitting, like the smile that was sitting on his face.

“Why can’t I have you back?” I can hear whispers inbetween his hums. I also notices that over the course of my song that is stuck on replay, he begins to incorporate his words into the melody, creating a chilling song consisting only of a sentence that's repeated over and over again.

"Why can't I have you back, Ahreum, why oh why can't I."

Eventually, his eyes fluttered to a close and he lets his humming come to an end. A final sigh and he was off to dreamland, temporarily escaping from reality with occasional reminders of sharp hiccups.

I’m tired of this thing on my face. It’s demented for me to show him this hideous smile while he’s there, just inches away from me with an overflowing stream of tears on his cheeks.

I want to blink, but I have no eyelids. I want to cry, but I have no tear ducts. I want to carry him to his bed and put him properly to bed, but my skin was made of porcelain. I want to give him a hug, and sing him a soothing lullaby. Anything, anything to tell him that everything is going to be okay.

I did try! Every single time! Commanding my arms to move, to shield him from all the hard things in life. To be an umbrella, however small it might be, protecting him from the harsh pounding of rain.

But what can do? I’m just a doll that spends most of her life smiling blankly on the windowsill.

All that’s left is for me to let my music box makes its final turn, letting go of the nursery rhyme twinkle that’s tuned to my gears.

All I can hope is just that… He will understand my best wishes, accompanied by this undying smile on my face.

‘Up came the sun and dried up all the rain
And the itsy bitsy spider climbed up the spout again.’

And with that, I wished him good night.