Jinah stood on the front steps of a beautiful house. The birds were returning and the gentle sound of bird calls could be heard. A car or two would pass, the wind was breezy and airy, but the beating of her heart overpowered all other sounds.

Her heart was beating so fast she felt like she had just ran a marathon, her fingers were shaking, and it wasn’t due to the cold. She brought her hand up, slowly and hesitantly before she brought them back down.  

“It’s okay Jinah, it’s okay.” She reassured herself knowing that she had to, needed to do this.  Using the last ounce of strength she still had bottled up in her she brought her hand back up. Two knocks against the wooden door were all she needed.

She exhaled and inhaled, her heart skipped a beat when she heard approaching footsteps. Was it selfish to wish that those footsteps would never reach her, to hope that they never arrive?

But that wasn’t how life worked was it. Sometimes those footsteps will reach you and all you can do is face them. Sometimes you have to take the upper hand and do things you don’t want to do. Throwing everything you have for someone you care about, that’s love.

In Jinah’s short lifetime she was certain about one thing, that love was never easy. Loving her mother was especially difficult. However Jinah knew who she was, she was her mother’s daughter and for our mothers we will go to the ends of the universe, fight the most horrid demons in hell and suffer every storm life throws at us.

“Hello.” A lady in her mid-thirties spoke as the front door opened, the sound of young child could be heard from behind the woman.

Jinah gulped and opened but nothing came out. “Can I help you?” The lady repeated.

“Hello,” She managed to say. “My name is Han Jinah.” She introduced herself bowing in front of the woman who stared at her with wide confused eyes.

“How may I help you?” She asked not quite sure why this teenage girl was standing on her footsteps.

“My mother is the woman that you claimed killed your husband.” Jinah told her and not so surprisingly the front door was being pushed shut.

“Please, just listen to me.” Jinah begged stopping the door by pulling her foot in between the door and the door frame.

“What are you doing here? I can call my lawyer.” She threatened but threats were no use to Jinah.

“Just hear me out, please.” Jinah pleaded throwing away her pride. She didn’t care if she looked like a fool, she didn’t care is she turned into an idiot, she knew what she had to do.

“You have five minutes. Speak.” The lady stated firmly. Jinah noticed someone standing behind the woman, a little girl, about the age of eight or maybe older.

Jinah locked eyes with the little girl and somehow in the midst of this mess she found a small piece of clarify. She pulled it together even when everything felt like it was falling apart.

“My mother was never perfect. She was never the perfect mother, or the perfect wife.” Jinah began.

“This is why she needs to be put away.” The lady stated.

“No!” Jinah exclaimed. “You see, my mother loves her liquor, sometimes I think she loves it more than she loves me. She drinks, and sleeps with random men, and yells and screams and shouts. She’s emotionally abusive and closed-minded.” Jinah explained trying to hold back her tears.

“But you have to understand that she’s been through hell and back.” Jinah told the lady and Jinah could tell by the way the lady’s eyes softened that her words did actually have an impact.

“When I was eleven years old there was one night when my mother disappeared. She was drinking again and my father went out to find her. He found her at a bar and he brought her home. On their way home however there was an accident. Another car hit theirs and my father died before the ambulances even reached. Since then my mother has raised me up as a single mother. She’s cried, she’s lost, she’s battled it all. She’s still my mother.” Jinah revealed.

Jinah looked down quickly and wiped away the tears that were beginning to form in the corner of her eyes.

“She’s not perfect, she has her flaws, she’s done some things she’s not proud of, but I can tell you that despite everything, she didn’t kill your husband, she-“

“How do you know?” The lady questioned, her voice was sharp and laced in anger and sadness. Her eyes were teary and Jinah could tell she was trying really hard not to let those tears spill.

“Because I was there. Because for the last few days every time I close my eyes I see your husband standing before me. I saw him attacking my mother and she did everything she could to fight him off. It was self defense. Because I know that you know that he wasn’t the perfect husband,” Jinah slowly moved her eyes from the widow to the little girl standing in the background listening to everything she said, “he wasn’t the perfect father either.” Jinah added. Jinah knew because no good husband would be cheating on his wife, no good father would be with another woman who wasn’t his wife.

“What are you accusing my husband of huh?” The lady hissed, her anger was dangerously lit, but Jinah knew it was nothing compared to the pain the lady must be feeling. Jinah knew because she watched her mother suffer day in and day out after her father died. She knew that losing your companion was just about the most tragic lost you can feel.

“I will make no statements about your husband because I am sure you already know everything you need to know. I am here to ask you to remove the charges against my mother, because I can assure you that my mother didn’t intend to kill your husband” Jinah mumbled trying to bear all her emotions together.

“Why should I trust you. I need my lawyer, do you know what can happen to you if the lawyers find out that you came here to speak to me.”

“I know. I know what will happen, but frankly I don’t care. I’ve already lost everything.”

She stared the widow straight in the eyes and watched as different waves of emotions engulfed her eyes. Jinah prayed that the one emotion she was hoping would surface. Anger. Pain. Regret. And there it was, the emotion Jinah was hoping to find. Forgiveness.

Jinah knew she was being selfish, she knew that the woman had just lost her husband and the father of her child. Jinah knew she could get a in a lot of trouble for this. But Han Jinah had already come to realize that sometimes, she needed to be selfish.

“I know that nothing I say or do will bring back your husband. I know you must be going through hell right now. I know you’re angry, scare, frighten, and lost. There is no way I can make things okay, but all I’m asking you to do is forgive.” Jinah pleaded. Her eyes remained lock on the lady in front of her. A moment of pure silence followed.

“I’ll think about it.” She mumbled softly after a few minutes.

“That’s all I need.”
------

Jinah hadn’t returned home since that day. She’s spent every waking second at Baekhyun’s place. Jinah felt safe there, she felt safe with Baekhyun.

But somehow she found herself standing on the front porch of the apartment complex she and her mother lived in.

Jinah stuffed her hands in her coat pockets and stride forward, knowing that she wasn’t ready to enter this place again, but she also knew she would have to eventually. She couldn’t run forever, she couldn’t seek shelter every time something went wrong.

She stepped through the front door after pressing in the security code. She climbed up the stairs. Memories from a few days back replayed in her mind. Could she have changed things? What if she ran faster? What if she kept her mother from following that man? Could she have prevented all this? Could she have kept that man alive?

If she did then there would be no little girl growing up without a father, no mother locked in jail, and no memories that haunted. If only….

“No.” She cried when she reached her apartment door. Her feet tumbled backwards before they lost all their strength. The ground underneath her disappear. Her back slammed against the wall and slowly she sank to the ground.

It was written in paint, a bold red color which reminded her too much of blood. Whoever wrote it intended for Jinah’s mother to find it, but it wasn’t her, it was Jinah who saw it.

And it was Jinah who was balled up like a frighten child in the corner of the hallway. It was Jinah who had to find the blood-red paint on the door. It was Jinah who was trying to prevent tears from spilling from her eyes. It was Jinah who had to prevent herself from falling apart.

Quickly grabbing her cell phone in her coat pocket she dialed the all too familiar number.

“Pick up, pick up please.” She pleaded. “Please, pick up.”

“Jinah?”

“Baek, can you-”

“Where are you?” He cut her off. Why did he sound so cold, so angry, so upset. He wasn’t like this after she left. Did something happen?

“At my place, Baekhyun I need you, the-“

“Can you stay there tonight?” He requested and Jinah felt her heart stop. No. No. No. No she couldn’t. She needed to get away, and she needed him with her.

“Baek, I can’t.”

“Jinah, please do this…for me.” He sounded like he was trying to hold back from shouting at her. He sounded so disattach, so far, and she didn’t understand why.

“Did something happen?” She asked softly. Honestly she didn’t know if she wanted him to answer because this ill feeling had begun to grow in the pit of her stomach.

“Soojin.” His one-word answer was all she needed. “She broke up with me.” He added and Jinah’s eyes widen.

“Wait, what. How? Why? I-I don’t understand.” She was at a loss of words.

“She couldn’t do it anymore. She said she couldn’t keep being second in my life, whatever the hell that means.” He revealed and Jinah furrowed her brows. Yes, what exactly did Soojin mean.

A moment of silence followed. All they could hear were each other’s heavy breaths. They were both going through a tough time. Jinah didn’t forget everything that was happening in Baekhyun’s life. His parents were getting a divorce and his girlfriend just broke up with him.

“Baek, it’s going to be okay.” She said softly. It was reassurance for him, and for herself. Honestly she didn’t even know if she believed her own words anymore.

“You keep saying that as if it’ll actually happen. It’s not okay Jinah. Nothing is okay.” He hissed and she knew he was angry.

“She said she’ll always be second. She’ll always be after you. What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He questioned. Jinah asked the same thing. The Baekhyun she knew would do anything for Soojin. He loved her; he loved Soojin like how he could never love Jinah.

“I just-I don’t know what to do.” He crumpled after he spoke those words. Jinah hated hearing him like this. She hated hearing him sound so sad and depress. But what could she do? Here she was, a fallen mess staring at her front door with bold red paint written on it. Here she was trying to get her mother out of jail. Here she was a broken mess just like him.

She couldn’t do anything to help him.

“I have to go.” His voice was cold and harsh, the contradiction of the warm tone she heard that morning.  

“Baek wait! Please don’t!” She shouted. “Please, don’t. I’ll come back, just wait for me okay.” She begged. She didn’t want to sound weak and fragile, but that was exactly what she was at this moment.

“Jinah, just for tonight. Please, stay away.” He begged and she knew he was crying. Her heart clenched even more because of all things, she hated hearing from cry. It was the worst thing she could ever hear.

No Baek, I can’t do this. I can’t do any of this, I need you. I don’t want to stay away. “Okay.” She replied. It wasn’t what she wanted to do, but for him she would. Because if there was anything Jinah learned about love, it was that love was never easy.

Sometimes you have to make decisions you don’t want to make. Pick choices that will end up hurting you, and learn that you’re not the only one who’s in pain.  

She heard the other line click as he hung up. Her phone dropped from her palm onto the ground, a soft thump as it fell.

Her head hit the back of the wall and she felt the darkness engulf her. There was no return from this, so Jinah sat there in the dark. She sat there staring at the door and at the bloody red words screaming at her. She knew it was intended for her mother, but right now Jinah felt like she was the guilty one.

Guilt was a scary thing. It eats you up whole if you’re not careful. It was a monster which lurks in the shadows preying on unsuspecting victims. There was so much guilt inside her as she stared at the door. On it in bloody-red paint spelled MURDERER.