SILLAGE

how can I ever know how some people stay and some people go?

The first time I met you, you were in an apron. It was white with lace frills, and it fluttered every time you moved. I was first transfixed by that; such a tiny little thing to be hypnotised by. But in a small village where everyone knew everyone, and the warm sunlight rendering the people slow and lazy, your energy was mesmerising to watch. I couldn't remember when I hired you (or rather, when Nana did) but I'm glad I did. You brought in the customers. With your smile and your warmth and your... passion. You had so much of it. It looked like you owned the café, the way you showed off the food and recommended the best cakes to go with the tea; you were a natural born saleswoman. And always you’d smile, that beautiful sweet smile that belonged among the flowers that I planted around the café.

 However the most intriguing thing about you was your scent. As you walked past people, a small trail would follow you, and the person you served would look up with a curious expression. I’ve seen it happen; they’d look at you and smile, then frown as you leave because there was that peculiar scent that trailed after you. It was sweet and fragrant, a little hit of vanilla with some sort of flower… lily? Perhaps orchids, as I recalled you mentioning they were your favourite. But it was there, and it was the one thing that stood out about you. You were never shy either. You’d ask so many questions, always had something to say the customer you’re serving.
“I know the vanilla cakes are the most popular, but honestly I love the strawberry ones best!”
“Do you like chocolate? There’s a sauce that goes really well with that…”
“Wow, it’s your birthday?! Well I need to cut you a bigger slice!”
 And then you’d laugh and grin widely, like you’ve known these people all your life (and some of them you did). That energy and that hard working nature of yours… I wonder when I started to fall for you?

 Kim Yura. Twenty-nine years old, with the enthusiasm of a Labrador and the curiosity of a six year old. Filled with so much life and laughter and just had so much to offer, I stop to suppress the ache in my heart when I think of you underneath the ground. Cold and lifeless and dead.

 Oh my dearest Yura… I should’ve answered all my questions when I had the chance.

 “Jonghyun oppa!” you said loudly. I looked up and squinted as your face came into view, flanked by the burning rays of the sun. “Why are you outside?! You should be indoors counting up my pay!”

 I flushed. “Yura-ssi-”

“Yura.”

 I frowned. “I said Yura-ssi.”

 “Nooooo!” you said in disappointment. “You said Yura-ssi. You added the suffix! Don’t do that; I consider us friends after all!”

 I pushed aside the clench in my heart when you said ‘friends’, “Yura-”

 “That’s better,” you said cheekily, grinning widely at me.

 I smiled, “I need to get these plants into the ground for the spring opening. Customers expect a lot from us you know. I want the café to look beautiful.”

 “So do we have to look beautiful too?” you asked casually.

 “You’re already beautiful,” I said, all too quickly. I then realised what I just said and quickly looked up at you, hoping I wasn’t too obvious. But you laughed good naturedly, and started to talk about the spring menu. The candied flowers were the best, you said, and that I should extend that for longer than the spring menu. I listened, adding comments now and again, still digging up soil and tending to the plants. Truthfully though, I just didn’t want to look at you. Because if I did, I was scared you’d see it all in my eyes. You’d see how much I wanted you, a pure primal desire that made my fingers itch and the hairs on the back of my neck stand. You were desirable in every aspect, from your playful sense of humour to your voluptuous body that’s hidden underneath your many layers of clothing. I always wondered why you layered your clothes; today was a particularly warm spring day, but you seemed to have a lot of clothes on.

 In my dreams, you were lying in bed waiting for me. Your skin would look almost translucent in the moonlight, your dark ebony hair a stark contrast to my white sheets. And when I touched you, you’d be warm and soft and so wonderfully woman… your gasps and cries whispered to me only… My jaw clenched.

 I saw you look up and smile warmly to someone, and my eyes followed your line of sight. My dreams fell apart once again, because this was my reality. In my dreams I was yours, but here I was promised to another.

 Nana and I have known each other since we were little. She was there when I paddled around in nappies, she was there when I went to school for the first time. Laughed at me when I got rejected for the first time, but had sympathised with me over ice cream. Gave her my shoulder to cry on through all the boyfriends, the heartbreak and the rebounds. She was there when I needed her, and I was there for her. Naturally, it just became an option for us to get together. ‘The Golden Couple’ everyone called us. Nana was perfect in every aspect; classically beautiful, clever and with a pleasant personality. Pleasant Nana. Safe Nana.

 Childhood friend Nana. Always perfectly turned out, composed and seen as a chic young woman; everyone told me how lucky I was to have her. And yes, I do agree. I couldn’t imagine life without Nana, simply because she’s just been a constant presence in my life. Because she was there, it just seemed like the obvious choice to marry. And so we became engaged.

 But did I want her for the rest of my life? Of course not.

 Nana was my best friend, and my partner in crime. But she was nothing like the lively Yura, didn't have the same zest for life that she did. Nana did not smile as often as Yura did, if at all. Nana kept her face as serene as possible, while Yura couldn’t compose herself enough to be thought of as sane. And I was a bastard for wanting both. Nana’s friendship and Yura’s love.

 But not everyone can have everything. For example, I had Nana’s unconditional support but I did not have Yura’s love. And if you had asked me which I needed more than anything, it would be Yura. I just… didn’t want to let go of what I had. I was fully aware I was selfish, but I didn’t care. I just wanted it all.

 “Jonghyun oppa…” you said, looking down at your hands. I was numb all over, my heart pumping furiously as I tried to wrestle with my panic. My hands shook and I could barely hear anything. I just didn’t understand why you were doing this. “I just… I can’t do it anymore…”

 “Yura…” I said, and I saw you smile sadly. It made my heartache, and all I wanted was to touch you, to hold you and tell you everything will be alright. That tomorrow will be better, that sunrises are beautiful and every day is a new chance to be happy. But no words came out of my mouth. And you would look at me, your eyes wide and sad and so lost. If I could take all your pain so that you didn’t have to feel sad anymore, I would do it. I would shoulder your entire burden; take on your demons if it meant you would smile again. That beautiful carefree smile, that held so much happiness that… this scene before me. I just didn’t understand it. “Why?”

 “I’m sick oppa,” you reply sadly, picking up the gun in front of you. I took an automatic step forward, and was rewarded by a swift press of the gun’s tip to your right temple. I swallowed hard, holding up my hands in front of me in surrender. Don’t do this. “I don’t have long… and I still haven’t done anything with my life.”

 “You’ve done plenty Yura,” I replied instantly. You shook your head but I pressed on, determined not to lose you. “You encourage and you inspire, you have so much passion for life that you infect others with it. I don’t understand why you want to do this, but please, reconsider. Your list is long, but I promise you it’ll be completed. I will help you. I’ll give you anything you want, I just…” I blinked away the tears that formed in my eyes, and I saw you do the same. “Yura, you deserve to live. And with me, you will.” Even with my words to you, I was selfish. 

 “You don’t understand!” you yell suddenly, clenching the gun hard. “I don’t want to do this anymore! I’m sick of putting up false pretences! I don’t want to go into work with all these people, and then go home to nothing! I just want to feel something! Anything!” Your baggy sleeves rolled down and revealed the angry red slits on your arms. Some were fresh, weeping red and trickling down your slender forearms and seeping into your clothes. Some were brown, and some were just white. Ghosts of a torturous past, evidence of your suffering.

 I sank to my knees and sobbed; through all your pain you still managed to smile. To let others believe that the day was going beautifully, and that tomorrow was going to shine even more. Not knowing that when you went home, all that greeted you was silence and loneliness. In my selfishness I believed you were happy, that how I loved you was enough. I’ve been so stupid, and you were paying the price. “Yura, please…”

 “None of this was your fault oppa,” you sobbed, acceptance in your eyes. That terrified me more than anything. I was helpless. “I just… it’s so painful. I want to see my mum! I want my dad here to hold me! I just want… I want to be free!”

 Bang.

 My ears whistled, my hands stopped shaking and my breathing became laboured. The air smelled distinctively of you: flowers and vanilla. Now mixed with the scent of blood and death.

 “God bless her soul, in the name of the father, and of the son… and of the Holy Spirit…” the priest was saying his last words, and I can just see it in his eyes that he didn’t care. For a man of God, he wasn’t very interested in His flock. You were just another one. Another dead while millions lived on. But I may as well have lost everything. And soon I shall. I felt a hand weave into mine. I squeezed it and got down low, picking up some soil and throwing it onto your coffin. I didn’t feel anything, like my body has gone into shock. I could still see you, with that white apron of yours moving here and there. A woman who possessed ungodly amounts of unspent energy, lying in a coffin with all the life drained out of her. You. The light of my world. I have descended into a night that will never see the sun again.

 “She was a lovely girl,” I heard Nana say beside me. I nodded once, to acknowledge her words. By this time everyone had gone to give me some privacy while I say my final words, a few short minutes to finalise my goodbye. But I can’t bring myself to say anything, to hear myself say that this will be our last moment together. Suddenly I didn’t want Nana beside me, interfering with the only time I have left to tell you everything I have ever wanted to tell you.

 You’ve always hated your hair, but I’ve always liked it.

 I knew you came up with half the menu, but didn’t want any credit for it. So I just named the cakes after things you liked.

 You have a complex about your height, but I’ve never seen you stoop to hide yourself. Rather, you stood straighter and a little higher, so sure of yourself. It’s rather lovely.

 I loved that you hated dirt. I saw you flinch whenever I dug at the earth with my bare hands, but would always playfully point it out instead of criticising me.

 I lov-

 I felt Nana’s lips on mine. Soft and full, just as I have always known her lips to be, but cold from the wind. Nothing at all like what I’d imagined yours to be. Your perfect full lips, like I can see them now. I frowned. She continued to press herself against me, prodding and tasting and searching me. But I gave nothing back and she finally understood, stopping short and stepping back. Breathing hard, she wiped angrily at her lips. There were tears in her eyes, and I tore my gaze away from the distance and looked at her with regret. “Nana-”

 “You’ve always loved her!” she threw at me. I didn’t have the heart to deny it, and she knew it. “Even now, when she’s dead and gone! I am a living girl, and you love her more than me!”

 “I will always love her!” I roared back, the pain and the grief finally surfacing, finding the target in my fiancée. “I’ve lost Yura. I’ve lost her forever! And all this time, it should’ve been her I went home to, her love I should’ve received-”

 “You selfish bastard!” Nana screams at me, her fists flying into my chest with a surprising force that I looked at her in amazement. To see Nana lose her famed self-control… it was something else. “I gave you everything! I gave you my heart, my soul and the life I was meant to have! I’ve sacrificed my entire ing life just to make you happy! I could’ve had my own life, my own goals, but instead everything you wanted I wanted! I-” she paused to calm herself, and I looked back with empty eyes. I didn’t feel her pain nor her regret; I didn’t feel anything at all. “I just wanted you to look at me like you did with her.”

 We stood in silence. Nana looked pale against her black woollen coat, gaining her self-control little by little. But something had changed in her, and there was tiredness in her eyes. Her back drooped and her hair, which had been held in a perfect coiffure, was no longer held in shape. Loose blonde tendrils whispered against her face, her eyes locked with mine once again. “You’ll never love me, will you?”

 “No.” I replied instantly, releasing her from all bonds we had. “I’m sorry Nana, truly.” She nodded curtly, then turned her back and walked away.

 In one day, I lost everything.