I can remember everything
Because I was there to see everything.

 

The day when everything I had once known
Became hidden far out of sight -
Shattered into pieces right in front of my face -
Was the day that my parents were killed
And my sister was sacrificed.

The rebels had been plotting carefully,
Patiently waiting for the day to come
When they could save the people of my village from sin,
Offering them the chance to obtain salvation.

But who were they to tell us what was right
And what was wrong?

Who were they to take innocent lives
And rid my people of all hope and happiness?

 

 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

The rebels spoke of better days -

Days of yore in which the sun shone twice as bright
And everything was right with the world;

Days when men dominated the household with a mighty fist
And women were only of worth if they bore children;

Days when every person spoke the same language
And looked exactly as their ancestors had;

Days when books were read by candlelight
And people walked far distances without ever complaining;

Days when all of these things were enough for everyone
And everyone was sheltered from the unyielding claws of sin.

The rebels wanted to return to the days of the past
Out of fear of what the future would bring.

The rebels feared change above all things
And sought to stop change in her heavy steps,
Just before she could touch us
And bring us to new life -
Just before she could make us reborn.

It was in fear
That the rebels took away all we ever had -
All we ever loved.

 

 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

They had lived among us.

They had seemed no different from us.

They spoke our language;
Shook our hands with earnest;
Bowed politely, respectfully to greet us.

They ate the fruit from our gardens
And drank the water from our streams.

They sent their sons and daughters to school with us,
And we formed strong friendships that seemed everlasting.

They lived with us,
Yet they betrayed us.

 

They smiled to our faces,
But they plotted behind our backs.

 

They worked with us -
Helped us build cottages,
Harvest crops,
Feed the poor
And heal the sick -
And yet they still sought to betray us.

 

And that is what hurt the most -
Knowing that I was betrayed by my own friends and neighbors.

 

 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I still remember the day the rebellion began.

I still remember the look of anger on my father's face
As he saw the body of his only daughter covered in bruises
And tied to a tree for all to see.

I still remember the look of painful sadness on my mother's face
Upon seeing her child - her precious seedling, her own flesh and blood -
Bleeding and wounded,
Left alone to die without a single word -
Without a single person who loved her.

 

I still remember how my throat tightened and my heart stopped
When I saw what was left of my beloved sister -
The girl who had a spirit of fire
And a heart open to change.

 

The rebels threatened anyone who opposed them.

They knew what had to be done,
And they would not tolerate the cessation of progress.

 

Nobody was brave enough to face the rebels -
Nobody but a small village girl
With golden eyes
And a spirit of fire.

 

She marched up to the son of the rebel leader -

A boy who had attended school with her

And had loved her from afar for some time -

And told him that what his father was doing was wrong,

And if he had any shred of decency,

He would try to put an end to it all.

 

But when the rebel leader heard of my sister's bold confrontation,

He was less than willing to comply with her request to end the rebellion.

 

Progress had to be stopped,

And progress had to be stopped with progress.

 

So for the good of the rebellion

He gave his son the order -

To humiliate and terminate my sister

By whatever means were necessary.

 

I still remember the words my sister spoke that day -

Words I disregarded;

Words I took for granted.

 

"I had a horrible dream last night," she had said.

 

She spoke with an air of both confusion and prophetic wisdom,

But I refused to listen to her

And to hear her words

Just as they were spoken.

 

"In my dream...I was .

I was by a boy who has liked me very much...ever since the day he first met me.

He took me away from the great oak tree where the butterflies are born.

He brought me to a dark place that I did not recognize.

He told me that...my spirit of fire allured him...but, oh, how he wanted to extinguish it.

He started to undress me, but before he could finish, my clothes caught fire.

He didn't say a word.

He just put a hand over my mouth, covered my eyes, and continued to have his way with me.

And my ity was taken, just like that.

But before I could start to cry, after it was all over, he began to hit me - to bruise my entire body.

And just as I started to wish that I was dead...

The sound of a gunshot rang out.

But I opened my eyes before I could find out what happened next."

 

And after she told me the nature of her dream,

I said nothing.

 

And she said nothing in return.

 

And we both just sat there,

In utter silence,

Waiting for the other to say something.

 

Finally, my sister broke the silence

By saying the very words to which I should have listened -

The words that could have made me see the future,

Just as she had done without her conscious awareness:

 

"Minhyuk...

You don't think...

This sort of thing...

Could actually happen...

Do you?"

 

And I still remember what I told her

After sharing in her final moments of life:

 

"You're ridiculous.

Worrying about a nightmare when the rebels planning to attack any day now is foolish.

 

You need to grow up.

 

If you can help butterflies to grow,

Why is it that you can't make yourself do the same?"

 

But what I didn't know...

Was that...

She was already grown -

So much so that I was unable to pull her back into the arms of safety -

My arms.

 

And I regret

Ever thinking

That she was too immature

To understand.

 

For it was I

Who did not understand.

 

But what I remember the most

Are the last words she spoke to me

Before she put on her shoes and left,

Ready to see the butterflies off on their trip to the future:

 

"I guess you're right, Minhyuk.

Pondering a dream really does seem silly.

 

But that's why I always come to you.

 

You always understand.

You always know just what to do."

 

But she could not have been more wrong.

 

I never understood,

Nor will I ever understand.

 

When the sun was setting and she had not yet returned,

I went to search for her.

 

I was lead to her body by a group of butterflies.

 

They lead me to the great oak tree -

The very tree my sister had seen in her dream,

In her nightmare.

 

And there she was:

Unclothed;

Covered in purple bruises;

Bleeding from a bullet to the heart.

 

Her golden eyes were opened,

But all of the light had been drained from them;

Her hands, which had encouraged the butterflies to change,

Were pruned from her body,

Just like gnarling branches from a tree

Or undesired roots in a garden -

Carelessly amputated

And left to rot,

Nowhere to be found;

And her spirit of fire

That was known and loved by all

Was finally set free

To soar high above the earth

And fill it with light.

 

But after that day

There was no more light left.

 

And I knew that the fire that lived inside my sister -

The fire that had grown just as she had

And had become a part of her -

Was extinguished.

Forever.

 

 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

When I saw her there -
Completely drained of all life
And energy -
I couldn't move...

I couldn't do anything.

I just fell to the earth
And sobbed.

I sobbed tears of regret
And tears of anguish.

And the earth just absorbed my tears one by one,
Giving me sweet consolation,
Just as my mother had always consoled the roses.

I tried to build up the strength to get up,
To tell my parents...

But I just...

I couldn't.

And so there I wept
For what seemed like an eternity.

It was when I heard the unmistakable flutter of butterfly wings
That I realized my parents knew.

The butterflies had told them -
They had shown them the truth.

When my parents saw her -
Tied to the oak tree,
Limp and lifeless -
All the color was drained from their bodies.

 

I still remember how hard my mother was crying
As she shouted to the sky:

"That's my baby!
That's my little girl!"

I still remember how she wrapped her arms around my sister's body,
Holding her with all of the energy she had left.

I still remember how she kissed every bruise that covered my sister's skin,
Wanting her to be rid of all pain and suffering
As she went on to live her life in another place,
A better place.

But what I remember most
Is how my mother fell to the earth,
Wailing loudly,
Consumed by lamentation.

And the roses that had been growing by the tree
All turned brown,
Withered,
And died
Right before my eyes,
In respect for my poor sister,
Who had suffered a fate so wrongful
And so terrible.

I still remember how my fathers face reddened with rage
Upon seeing his daughter's body so mistreated -
Abused and left exposed
For all to see.

It was an act of hatred -
An act intended to bring shame upon my family,
Upon all of the villagers -
Upon everything that we once loved
And once believed in.

And my father -
Thinking about his little girl who used to laugh under the sunshine,
Running about freely as her spirit of fire dictated her course to nowhere -
Wanted nothing more
Than revenge.

I remember how his body turned stone cold
And his eyes turned from a light, warm brown
Into a demonic shade of red,
Alive with a thirst for vengeance
And a willingness to die for it.

But what I remember most
Is how my father howled up to the sky,
Driven utterly mad by his hatred for the men who disgraced his daughter.

And all the animals in the village
Responded to his outcry.

Strident sounds from all animals rang throughout the village
And filled each and every villager's heart with a deep desire to fight.

Upon hearing the calls from the animals,
All of the men of the village came to the spot where my sister was on display,
Lead there by their animals,
Who shared in their growing drive to defend everything that was important to the village.

When the villagers saw my sister's body hanging there,
Tied to the great oak tree,
Their mouths hung agape
And their eyes watered with both sorrow and indignation.

When all of the village men were gathered there,
My father held his hands up to the sky,
And yelled at the top of his lungs:

"Brothers!
The rebels have taken something precious to us -
Something we hold dear above all things:

They have taken the life of a child -
My daughter.

We cannot let the rebels get away with this act of blind cruelty!
We cannot let them strike fear into our hearts any longer!

This is our village.
This is the place where we have grown up,
And this is the place where our children will grow up,
And their childrens' children long after we are gone.

We cannot give up our homeland like this!
We cannot let innocent blood be spilled again!

We must fight for our land!
We must show the rebels that this is our land
And we are not going to change anything about it.

Let us fight, dear brothers!

The time has come for action.
And if our blood is shed along the way, so be it.

For we will be fighting with the knowledge that our children will be free from harm
And safe to live as they had before -
Just as they had before.

Let us fight for our land!
Let us fight for our children!

Let us fight...
For our dignity."

And just as the villagers started to become riled up,
Ready to take on the world,
The rebels marched into the clearing.

The rebel leader looked at my father
And saw the fury streaming from his eyes.

It was then that he knew
The rebellion could not be withheld any longer.

From his belt,
My father drew his machete.

And the rebel leader,
With a bright smile appearing on his face,
Grabbed a shotgun out of the hands of another rebel
And aimed it at my father.

"Still think that fighting against us is wise?" the rebel leader asked,
Laughing heartily at my father's foolery.

My father grasped his machete tighter,
Walked right up to the rebel leader,
Looked him square in the face
And said:

"You've murdered my daughter.
You've disgraced my family.
You've taken away everything that I once held dear.
And I will not tolerate your kind anymore."

And it was with these words
That my father lunged the machete forth,
Tearing the rebel leader's overcoat
And leaving his entire upper arm bleeding at a rapid pace.

As soon as my father had made his move,
The other village men began to follow in his example.

One by one I watched the fathers of my friends and of the boys with whom I went to school
Jump on top of the rebels,
Wrestling them to the ground,
Punching their faces repeatedly
And being punched back in return.

One by one they picked up twigs and branches
And used them to hit the rebels,
Watching them double over in pain,
Rejoicing as they fell to the ground.

One by one members of the village stole weapons from the rebels,
Firing them at other rebels
But often missing their targets.

I watched as the men I had come to know
Had their heads severed from their bodies,
Their eyes gauged out of their sockets,
Their stomachs cut open
And their intestines wrapped around their necks.

The rebels were vicious
And they were certainly not going to lead my village into temptation.

 

 

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I hated what I was seeing -
I hated it so much
That I could not move a muscle.

I just stood there, paralytic,
Only able to observe as the people I had come to know and love
Were heartlessly murdered
Right before my eyes.

Soon the earth was scattered with bodies of fallen villagers and rebels alike
And the bark of the great oak tree was stained with crimson blood.

I could hear nothing put the sound of gunshots,
Mortified scowls,
Anxious prayers,
And agonizing cries.

I could see nothing but death and destruction before me
And nothing but emptiness and cowardice behind me.

I was standing right in the middle of a genocide,
But I could not make myself do anything to stop it.

 

Suddenly,
Right before my eyes,
I saw my father.

He was down on his knees,
Gaze still cold as ice
But face covered in dirt and blood.

The rebel leader was standing in front of him,
Shotgun pointed straight at his head.

"Was it really worth it?" the rebel leader asked as he placed his finger on the trigger.

I was screaming on the inside,
Commanding myself to run and knock the gun out of rebel leader's hands -
To do anything to save my father...

But I...

I just couldn't do anything.

All I could do
Was watch
And hope
That everything would be alright.

"Yes," my father replied, spitting on the shoe of the rebel leader,
"I know I have done what is right."

And with those words,
The rebel leader pulled the trigger.

 

I still remember
The crack of the gunshot -
The very sound that silenced the entire universe for a brief moment
And would return to haunt my memory for many days to come.

I still remember
Watching my father fall to the ground,
Eyes wide open
And full of tears.

It was only after the rebel leader had left my father alone in the soil
That I was able to run to his side.

I picked up his head and held it in my hands
And I sobbed at the sight of him -
A man who was always so brave and so strong
Now lying dead,
Just like my sister.

But as I looked at his eyes
I saw not the stare of a man blind with rage:

I saw peace,
Pride,
And satisfaction in his eyes.

And that is how I knew
That my father died with purpose.

But as I was holding him,
Regret beginning to etch itself into the depths of my mind,
My attention was brought to another place -
The place where my mother had been absorbed in her misery.

My mother was slowly standing up -
Trying hard not to look at the dead bodies lying around her
Or the violent fighting that was taking place before her -
When a rebel ran up to her side.

In his hand was a stake,
And in his heart was hatred.

 

I still remember
How I was unable to breathe
After I witnessed the sight of the rebel
Sticking the stake right through my mother's chest.

And all I could do was watch.

 

On the end of the stick laid my mother's heart,
The very heart that was used to make roses bloom
And to make her children happy.

 

My mother fell to the earth in slow motion.

When her body finally made contact with the ground,
The leaves on the great oak tree fell to the earth,
All in an instance,
To rest atop her warm body.

I gently placed my father's head on the ground
With tears blinding my vision,
Calling my mother's name in a loud, distressed voice,
Readying myself to run to her.

But just before I could see her one last time,
Hold her one last time,
I was stopped by a rebel;
The rebel I wanted least to see.

It was him -
The one who had killed my sister.

He looked at me with sullen eyes
As if to say that he was sorry about what he had done.

But I did not believe that he was sorrowful at all -
I believed that he was trying to play me a fool
And take my life,
Just as his kind had taken the lives of the rest of my friends and family.

Now that he was so close to me...
I didn't care if he took my life.

I had already lost the people I loved most in the world -
What would it have mattered if I was killed right then and there?

Now that he was so close to me...
I felt the feelings of anger and grief fill me to the very core.

Now that he was so close to me...
I wanted to tell him everything that was on my mind.

 

"M..M...Minhyuk..." he stuttered, playing his part of the confused rebel longing for forgiveness to perfection,
"I...I...I can explain..."

 

"Shut up."

That's how I began.

And I still remember
Every word I said to him.

 

"You...you bastard!
You filthy little bastard!

How...how could you...
How could you use her like that?

How could you look her in the eyes,
Knowing that you would be the one to take her life,
And just...use her for your own selfish purposes?

How could you do that...
To someone you loved?

You loved her!

You loved her from the moment you first saw her,
Yet you were able to take her life so carelessly?

Listen to me!
Listen to me...

Lee Taeil...

You have disgraced her.

And now,
Because of you,
The butterflies will die
Because they do not yet know the nature of change.

Because of you,
There will never be a child born with eyes of gold,
For the sun will be forever mourning the girl whose eyes were as golden as its rays.

Because of you,
There will never be another soul with a spirit like hers...
A spirit of fire...
A breath of life from the gods.

How will you live with yourself, Taeil?

Knowing each and every day that because of your own cruelty...
Innocent lives were shed
And mother nature came to abandon all of us here in the village?

I hope you are happy with what you have done
And I hope that you are damned to hell for it.

Go to hell, Taeil!

I hope you get what you deserve."

 

And it was with these words
That Taeil fell to the ground
And wept
With his entire heart
And his entire spirit.

And the last thing I remember seeing
Before the world around me turned to black...

Was the rebel leader running to his son
Who was weeping on the ground...

The falling of many village men
As the sound of shotgun cries rang through the air...

And the clear sound of thunder
Along with the falling of raindrops.

And just as I reached out my hand to catch the first droplet,
The impact came.

And it was so powerful
That it left me unconscious.

 

 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

That was the first time I ever failed to catch the rain.

And after that day,
No more rain fell on the village.

From that day forward,
I was no longer Minhyuk;

Son of a man who calmed the animals,
And a woman who consoled the roses;

Brother of a girl who changed caterpillars to butterflies
And had an unmatchable spirit of fire;

Master of catching the rain
And distributing it to the plants below.

 

When I fell to the earth,
The entire right side of my face became coated in the blood of my fellow villagers -

The people I would never see again;

The people who fought for me
And for their children;

The people who wanted nothing more
Than to see that everything stayed
Just as it was before.

And the blood on my face
Stretched itself up into my hair
Where it took permanent residence,
Constantly reminding me of the day I lost everything I ever held dear.

 

From that day on,
I became a different person -

A person with blood-red hair
Who could no longer catch the rain drops

And who no longer had a family
Or a home.

 

No, I was no longer Minhyuk.

 

I was a butterfly
Without any wings.