I'm sick.
Or a nuisance as mom calls me. And as always I have succeeded in doing something undesirable to her. It's not my fault I can't do anything. Everything just gets so mixed up in my head. Whatever I think I want to do, comes out into mistakes and errors no one can afford. Poor mother, she seems to have gotten the worst of it.
~~

"No, put it back!" She smacked the package of candy out of my hands.

I didn't understand why she'd done it. A part of me felt like I did, though it wouldn't release the exact answer.

"Umma, Candy!" I began to throw a tantrum.
I jumped up and down, screaming at the top of my lungs and splattering the contents of the cart onto the solid tile floor. My mother looking as though she were about to cry.

Others in the store shook their head in disbelief; seeing a 24 year man act like a 7 year old child, 
  
"Kibum please stop this. No candy today, Umma doesn't have much money."

The whole concept of 'money' was a complete mystery to me. Why is money worth such value to her? It seemed it was bad not to possess it, so why didn't she have it? And why did it keep me from getting things all the time? 

Eventually, the stores manager was called to our isle. She told us to leave and that we were disrupting the business. Of course Mother left, but she had to drag me by the wrist forcing me out of the store.

"Why we go, Mommy?" I asked confused as to what had been going on.

She didn't answer me.

Once we reached the car, she hurried to the passengers side strapping me into my seatbelt. I watched her walk to the drivers side shaking, and fixing her hair. 

As she sat in the car gripping the steering wheel, I began to laugh. Not that I had desired to, I just couldn't help myself. 

"Kibum stop it!" Tears began to steam from her eyes.

But I couldn't. My loud chuckles filled the car, making mother even more irritable.

"Kibum that wasn't funny!" She hit the steering wheel.

Laughing never once registered to me as portraying 'funny'. I wasn't trying mocking her.... My mind was just having a hard time registering the emotion I should have.

As we drove, my mood switched quickly.
"Does Mommy love Kibum?" I asked

Mom was silent for what seemed to be a long time, but she did speak after a while.

"Kibum, can't you just get better?" She asked.

The question confused me, as it always did. She talked as though I wasn't me, as though I wasn't the old Kibum.

"Mommy-" I placed a hand sloppily on her shoulder, patting a hand on my chest. "I still me! Still Kibum, Mommy!"

Mothers gaze was set on the road.

"What would Kibum say if I put him in a special place."

The thought of anything special sparked excitement. It wasn't often I received special things. Mom said people with power and money didn't think people like us deserved special things. Which was very strange to me. As much as I love nice things, I wished that she could have a lot more than I'll ever have. Because to a lot of people, I wasn't important.

~Continued in Chapter 1~