Chapter 8: It was a dark and stormy night

            It was a dark and stormy night. Even so, Young Do walked in the streets with just an umbrella and a coat for protection. Whenever the wind gushed, it slapped his face with cold air. He felt his nose slowly coming off.

            “Aish, Kwang Sun, that callow child,” Young Do muttered. Through the chattering of his teeth and the sound of the wind blowing in his ears, Young Do heard a crash. It was faint, like one would hear a bird’s song in the distance.

            But when he walked further down the road towards Mango Six, he approached a crowd in the middle of the street. Some were gasping; some were breathing words into their phones.

            “That’s Kwang Sun,” he heard a girl cry. “That’s Song Kwang Sun.”

            It was a dark and stormy night. And on that stormy night, Young Do raced to the front of the crowd, and saw Kwang Sun’s mangled body in a heap of flesh and blood. Puddles of red liquid gradually poured out of Kwang Sun’s body, draining his face of color.

            Although he didn’t know him all that well, Young Do trembled. His sight blurred and he felt like the world was spinning.

            Suddenly, he was pushed down on the cold black concrete, Kwang Sun’s blood staining his shirt and skin.

            “Kwang Sun!”

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            She was disgusted.

            That bastard! How dare he accuse her Jung Hee! HER BAE JUNG HEE!

            “My Bae Jung Hee,” she scoffed, “a killer? Ha! Killer-my foot.” Hea Woo viciously shook her head. “Choi Young Do, you idiot!”

            And with that, she collapsed into her bed. Just as her head hit her pillow, her stomach growled like a hungry lion. She moaned.

            The next thing she knew, she was getting up and pulling on her shoes. If she ate at home, she would have to wake her mother, so she decided to go to Mango Six to grab a quick drink.

            She tip-toed past the kitchen and clawed at the counter where she normally put her phone, but she only felt the cold white wood table. She shrugged. “Eh.”

            It was a dark and stormy night. The wind howled like a wolf and bushes rustled, dropping tiny spring green leaves like confetti. In the distance, trees danced, swaying back and forth with the strong winds.

            As she walked closer to Mango Six, she saw a mob on the street gasping and whispering. She even heard people calling the police.

            In curiosity, she pushed through the people and got a look at what was happening.

            She blinked.

            She pinched herself.

            She closed her eyes and counted to three, and opened them again.

            She pushed Young Do out of the way. Suddenly, she felt dizzy. Her head was spinning, and no longer could she feel the cold. She only felt the morbid coldness of her brother’s skin.

            Young Do got off the ground, but again Hea Woo pushed him.

            “Move,” she snarled. “Move!”

            She pushed him again, and with her trembling hands she reached to find a pulse in Kwang Sun’s wrist. There wasn’t any.

            Now, her wrists were covering in a thin layer of red, her palms were sticky and the blood got under her fingernails.

            Her own brother’s blood.

            All she saw was red; the red of her anger, her brother’s blood, and the blood-red car that almost ran her over. She knew it was that car.

            And then she could feel it; her cheek was pressed against the ground, wet with blood. Her head throbbed and her hands trembled. She fainted.

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            The first thing she saw was a white ceiling. She felt needles poking into her arm, and pulled them off. The room smelled sterile; it felt sterile.

 Of course it’s sterile, it’s a hospital, she thought.

A hospital…Why was she at the hospital?

Then she remembered the blood on the black concrete on that dark and stormy night.

Hea Woo’s throat burned and her lip trembled, but even before she could shed a tear, someone pulled back the curtains, which she didn’t notice before. It wasn’t someone she wanted to see.

“Hea Woo,” Young Do said somberly. His eyes were narrow and his fists were clenched tight.

At the sight of him, Hea Woo recoiled. She already felt bile filling . With disgust, Young Do wrinkled his nose at the new stain on his shirt. A nurse handed him a wash cloth.

“I have something to say,” Young Do started, “I-”

Hea Woo ignored him, and got up.

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            It was probably one of the worst impulsive mistakes Young Do had ever made. It felt like Eun Sang all over again.

            As she walked pass him, Young Do suddenly placed his foot in front of hers and as she fell, he grabbed her hand.

            You babo, Young Do thought.

            Hea Woo ripped her arm from Young Do’s grip and slapped him. She continued, without looking back, to walk towards the exit, leaving Young Do alone and guilty.