I hated being here.

I hated it.

All of the visitors had to stand in a certain row, the relatives covered the first row, closest friends the next two rows, then colleagues and whatnot. Since this was my grandmother's funeral I was standing in the first row, right next to my parents.
My Mom was covering her face with her right hand, but it was so obvious that she was crying anyway, and gripped onto my Dad's hand with her left one. She was trembling and seemed completely overwhelmed … but who wouldn't be if their Mom died.
My Dad on the other hand was much calmer. He was holding my Mom's hand with one hand and had the other one resting on my shoulder. Every now and then he would rub it which caused me to look at him, but, whenever I did, he wouldn't look back at me.

All of my relatives were standing there silently, their gazes directed to the ground and their hands holding onto someone else's. It was a very sad picture to me and I had to try hard in order not to cry. Even my older brother seemed on the verge of tears and when the priest started reading the prayers he actually started crying and turned away from me so I wouldn't see.

I hated this so, so much.

Not only that my grandmother had just left us, but now I had to be here and stay strong for my relatives … although I cold barely stay strong for myself.

The entire atmosphere in this chapel was suffocating me, I felt like it was squeezing my insides, leaving me breathless. Whenever I looked around I saw someone crying or even sobbing, my young cousin was hugging her Mom's legs and was crying as well. When I looked around a bit more and saw some of my family's friends cry and comforting each other I felt even worse … I couldn't comfort my Mom … I didn't know how.

I clenched my fists unconsciously and just stared blankly up ahead, into the direction of the priest. He was still reading a few prayers from the book in front of him, he never stopped speaking, just put a few small pauses in his reading every here and there, but there were no emotions at all. But of course he would be emotionless. He had probably already done this procedure for tons of people – why would he act any different with my grandmother than with someone else's?

When the prayers ended and everyone lifted their heads there was an eerie silence that spread throughout the chapel. Everyone was watching the priest stand there by the coffin and I seemed to be the only one to turn my head when I heard the doors of the chapel behind us open. My father nudged me, probably to tell me to look up ahead, but I ignored him. Instead I watched how the six coffin bearer entered the chapel slowly, all of them wearing black clothes. As they lifted the coffin up I found my mind starting to wander and wondered who'd ever do a job like this. It must have been depressing, right?

I continued to watch them as they slowly walked outside, the sound of their steps echoing in the chapel and ringing in my ears. It felt weird to watch them carry my dead grandmother on their shoulders, even though she was in a coffin. My heart didn't seem to be beating anymore and just felt heavy and dead within my chest. Although my grandmother and I had never been particularly close this was the first time that I was confronted with the loss of a family member and it really was much harder to cope with than I had expected. I barely knew the woman in the coffin and yet I found tears roll down my cheeks as my father pulled me with him in order to leave the chapel. My footsteps were heavy and my eyes directed to the ground, for some reason I could feel my hands tremble.

Once the cold air hit my face I frowned a bit and pulled my jacket around me tighter. Since it had rained a lot during the last week I could hear the sounds of people walking all around me and had to mind my steps in order not to sink into the mud. There were a lot of impressions crashing on me, like the sound of birds chirping or the wind rustling through the leaves, then there were people whispering my name, my parent's name and my grandmother's as well as my grandfather's name. It was confusing for me and having my father's hand on my shoulder the entire time was not calming me down at all.

So when someone bumped into him and separated us I was more than relieved. And when there was a turn in the way we were walking I was even more relieved and took a chance as I went the other way, loosing the group of people. I could hear them speaking for a short while but those sounds soon died off and I found myself completely alone in front of a path that lead to somewhere else than the funeral did.

I took a deep breath and just started walking slowly, my arms wrapped around myself tightly. I still felt shaken up, still noticed how weird my heart felt in my chest and how there were still tears dripping down my cheeks.
As I kept on walking, my hands in my pockets and gaze directed to the ground, I felt my heart slowly starting to relax again and how the tears dried. Being alone helped to organize my thoughts and I stopped wondering about who'd ever want to be a coffin bearer, why people would whisper about others who could hear or why people had to die in the first place. I tried emptying my mind and not to think about anything for a moment, but it was much more difficult than I would have imagined. Not thinking required all my focus and I eventually ended up tripping over a small tombstone, but managed to regain my balance quickly. When I took a look at it I frowned a little when I saw what was written in there.


Kim Jonghyun

(born 1938, April 8^th; died 1950, December 23^rd , Age 12)
 

In eternal memory of the Korean War


So this was the grave of a war victim … and he had only been twelve years old …
Although the thought of how he must have died made me uncomfortable and scared me a bit I decided to stay by this grave for a while. It felt like a save place for some reason. When I knelt down and noticed how there was moss covering the upper part of his stone I felt like I should stay and clean it up a bit. I took off my jacket and knelt down on it, not minding how I got a little chilly. Instead I used my sleeve to rub the moss off of the top of the tombstone and smiled a bit when I saw that there was a small music note engraved at the top – maybe this kid had enjoyed singing? I scratched the dirt off of the note and smiled a bit more when I saw how it sparkled a little in the dimly shining sun. And as I continued to clean everything I found more and more of those small notes engraved in the marble. It looked really nice now that it was clean, especially in comparison with my sleeve which was now a deep brown and greenish color.

“You must have liked music …” I mumbled to myself as I crossed my legs so I could reach the dirt that covered the bottom. “Wonder how it must have been during war …” I noticed how my voice was soft and a little weak, but I didn't bother about it. I was all alone here, after all.
Getting the dirt off of the marble was much more difficult than getting the moss off and it took me probably longer than twenty minutes to finally get it completely clean. And even though I managed to clean the front, the back and even the sides of the stone I was still not satisfied with my work – probably because I knew that if I didn't come to look after it every now and then it would look like this again within a few weeks.
“Didn't you have any relatives, Kim Jonghyun?” I asked the stone in front of me and pouted. The thought saddened me although I tried not to let it get to me too much. “Don't worry … your stone is all clean now … it looks nice.”

For a while I just sat there, watching the engraving of his name and the music notes here and there and let my thoughts wander. However, when I could feel someone's eyes on me I looked over my shoulder and blinked when I saw a guy, about my age, so either eleven or twelve years old, walk up to me. He had black hair, just like me, was really skinny and was wearing a plain white shirt that was way too big for him and reached down to his thighs. His pants were ripped around his knees and he was walking barefooted. A smile was on his face.

“Hello?” I asked and looked up at him. I didn't really bother to get up. As he moved he made no noises whatsoever, unlike the many guests that had attended the funeral. “Who are you?” I asked again and frowned when he just looked at me without replying. The smile on his face didn't fade, instead it only seemed to grow, especially when he saw how clean the tombstone in front of me was and that both my sleeves were covered in dirt. “Excuse me,” I said, my voice getting a bit louder this time, “who are you?” I knew I sounded a bit intimidated, but I tried to say it strongly so that he'd finally reply. But then I thought … maybe he was mute?

For a while I didn't know what to do and just looked up at him with round eyes, my heart, which seemed to have recovered a little, now beating quicker than usually. I just stared at him and noticed how I had unconsciously clenched my fists. “… can you not speak?” I then asked, my voice suddenly shy – this guy was freaking me out to no end. His gaze was still on me, but it wasn't uncomfortable at all. His gaze was warm and the smile on his face seemed welcoming, not offending at all … guess it just freaked me out to be stared at.

There was silence for a while again, but when he finally said something it send shivers down my spine. “I'm not mute.” his voice was soft and gentle, it echoed a bit in the silence around us. I felt myself relax immediately when he kept on speaking. “I just noticed … you cleaned this tombstone?” he looked at the tombstone while he spoke and turned back to me then, apparently expecting an answer. When I just nodded he smiled again and knelt down next to me. Although there were leaves on the ground they made no noises as he sat down and I furrowed my brow at that – how could he move that silently? “Why would you clean it …? You're too young to have known this boy, aren't you?”

“Yeah, so?” I raised my brow at him and thought for a moment. “Well … no, I didn't know him. But … my grandmother just died … and … I think she would have been really sad if no-one looked after her grave. This boy would have been sad as well if he knew that his grave was just going stale here …”
The guy smiled at me and when I looked into his eyes I thought I saw a glimpse of thankfulness in there. But since it was gone the next moment I looked I figured I must have imagined it.
“Don't you think so?” I asked him when he didn't say anything for a long time. “It's a shame … his tombstone is so pretty … look at the engravings.” I pointed at the way his name had been written and at the musical notes here and there. “I really like it.” I smiled softly as I kept looking at it.
“It's pretty, I agree.” he answered and smiled again. He even let out a soft chuckle that caused my body to shiver, his voice was just so soft. “I'm sure that boy would have liked them … a lot.” he nodded and used his hands to support himself as he leaned back. His eyes were fixed to the boy's name, Kim Jonghyun. He seemed a little lost in thoughts and I just let him be for a while. Now that I knew that he was quite normal I didn't feel as freaked out anymore. The only thing that kept me wondering was how he could make me feel so calm so quickly and why his voice was so soothing – it seemed a little unnatural.

When none of us said anything for a long time I decided to speak up a bit and try to get a conversation going. “I'm Lee Taemin.” I said and held out my hand to him. However, instead of taking it he just stared at my hand for a while and then said: “I'm … someone. It's not important.”

“What kind of introduction is that.” I said and snorted as I looked at him. I put my hand down slowly, feeling more than disappointed. “You're not just someone, you're a person and you've got to have a name.”
He looked at me and chuckled a little. His hand went up and I thought he wanted to shake mine now, but instead he let it run through his hair. “You really need my name?”

“Yes.” I insisted and wondered why this conversation was so weird. “Of course. How else would I be able to get to know you?”
He chuckled again and I saw how his hand gripped onto his hair a little. “I don't think you need someone's name to be able to get to know them. And, why would you want to get to know me?” that question got me wondering, to be honest. And he seemed to know that I was thinking about it now because he kept silent for a bit. “I'm just some guy you met on a graveyard.”
I looked at him and blinked before I came up with the only possible answer I could think of: “But you seem just as interested in this grave as I am. And … on top of that … you're still sitting here, with me. And I am still sitting here as well, with you.” I looked at him for a long time, my gaze fixed to his. There was silence for a while until he eventually nodded and agreed: “You're right.” he nodded and I couldn't prevent myself from smiling when he laughed a little. “Alright … my name is …” he thought for a few seconds until he said: “Kim. My name is Kim.”

“Is that your real name?” I asked and raised my brows.
“Does it matter?” he replied and mimicked me by raising his brows as well. “It's a name.”
I frowned and glared at him a bit, feeling like he was playing me. However, I realized that he wasn't going to give me his real, or full, name and that it was a compromise that he even gave me something like Kim. And so I gave in and let him have it his way. He seemed thankful for that and continued to look at me for a while before asking why, if my grandmother had died, I was here by this tombstone, all by myself.
“I … thought I could attend the funeral well.” I replied and mumbled, my fingers busy with playing with the dirt under my jacket. “But it was more difficult than I thought … and … yeah. I just wanted some time alone.”

“So, where are the others?” Kim asked and smiled a little bit again. He had his legs crossed and his hands resting on either sides of him.
“Somewhere down that path.” I said and pointed at the other direction. “I don't really know. I just took a different turn than they did.”

I see.” he chuckled softly and nodded. “I understand what you mean … I never liked funerals, either.”

“Sounds like you've been to quite a few.”
He frowned a little and seemed to be caught off-guard for a second. He caught himself quickly though and replied: “I guess you could say that. I've been to quite a few.”

“How come?”

“… well, I lost my grandparent's early, just like my Mom and Dad.” the smile on Kim's face faded slowly and was replaced by a sad expression. His eyes had moved from my face to the tombstone and then at the sky. “They didn't really have a funeral, but … it was something similar to that.”

“Something similar?” I followed up and blinked in confusion. “What's something similar?”

“It doesn't matter.” his smile returned and he looked back at me. “The most important thing is that it's over.”
I stayed silent for a while again and just thought to myself what kind of meaning that could have. I wasn't able to come up with anything though and so I just let it be. I was already getting used to his unclear answers. However, when I was just about to ask him where he lived if he wasn't with his parents or grandparents, but listened up when I heard my Mom's voice shout my name in the distance. She sounded really scared and I could hear my Dad shouting for me as well – I must have been gone for more than an hour by now …

“Your parents are looking for you.” Kim said and laughed a bit again, causing shivers to run down my spine again. “You should probably go and join them again.”

“Yeah.” I agreed and got up quickly, dusting off my jacket and sighing. There was no doubt that I was going to be lectured for just running off like that. Out of the corner of my eye I saw how Kim got up as well and glanced at him, pondering on whether I should ask what I had in mind. When I heard my parents get closer though I just ended up blurting it out: “You wanna come to my place?” I blushed a bit, but couldn't really explain why, and stared at him with big eyes. He stared back at me and tilted his head to the side, I could tell that he was wondering why I'd ask him something like that. However, he did seem to think about it, but in the end he just said: “I'd rather not. But …” he took a look around, his hand going up to touch his nose as he thought. I noticed how the voice of my mother got louder and could soon hear their steps crushing the leaves on the ground. Kim looked at me and blinked, then just shook his head without saying another word.

“Taemin-ah!” I spun around just in time to have my mother run into me. She pulled me against her chest, her entire body was shaking and I could hear that she was crying. She hugged me so tightly that it hurt and I had to gasp for air when my father joined the hug. “Have you been here all the time!?” my Mom shrieked and let out a sob. “You must have been so scared!” her shaking hand went through my hair, pulling out a bit of it every here and there. I struggled and tried to push her off because I was hurting and, secondly, because I didn't want her to embarrass me like that in front of my new friend.
“M-Mom!” I said loudly and pushed against her with my hands. “Mom, stop!”

“You can't run off like that, Taemin-ah!” my father then said and helped me break away from my Mom. He looked very serious and was standing right in front of Kim so that I couldn't see him. “We were worried sick! An eleven year old like you sitting on a graveyard by himself is dangerous! A lot of strange people walk by here!”

“I wasn't alone! See, I was with Ki–” I said quickly and pushed him aside to introduce them to Kim, but he was, to my biggest surprise, gone. I frowned hard and stared at the spot where he had been standing just a minute ago – there was not a single trace left of him.
“Taemin-ah, this is not the time to play around.” my Dad said, his voice sounded very serious and he furrowed his brow. “We should get you home.” he grabbed my arm firmly and he and my Mom started pulling me away and back towards the direction we came from.
“B-But I wasn't alone …” I said with a soft voice, feeling shocked. “I … he was here.” I pointed at the spot where he had been standing. “There.” I glanced down at the grass. Where I had been sitting there was a small pit in the grass … there was nothing where he had been. “I …” I stared at the grass as my parents pulled me away and stopped struggling.

I knew I hadn't imagined Kim being there with me … but where could he have gone within one second? And why were there no traces of him having been there?

I wasn't going crazy, was I?



*



I decided to try and turn this into a longer story. I expect to come up with about 6 to 10 chapters, I am currently working on the 4th chapter of this ^^

Thanks for reading (if you did)!!~