It Only Takes 3 Little Words ( A Super Junior Story )

Chapter 8. Memories ( Good and Bad )

Minae's POV

I text Sora-unnie early this morning.

To Sora:

Today's the day. Tell the guys that I'm not going to be at the dorms for a while. Stall them. Do anything. I just want to be left alone for the day. Please...

I got up from my bed and went to my closet. I wore a black A-line dress that goes to mid-thigh. I wore nude tights, black heels, and a black blazer. I did my hair in a curly bun and wore eyeliner. I quietly take my guitar case and leave the dorm to go to the florist to get some flowers. My mother's favorites. White lilies.

I spend the whole day at my mother, father, step-father, and step-brother's graves. My mother's will stated that she wanted all of them to be buried where my father was. There they were. Side by side. I cry and cry. Memories flash though my mind

Inside Minae's Memories

I was 3 years old. Bright lights were everywhere. Streamers and balloons decorated the room and I heard happy cheering echoing off the walls. Oh yeah. It was my birthday.

This was also the only happy memory that I can remember with my father. He smiled so warmly down on me. I beamed at him. I was dressed in my best dress and my mother finally brought the cake out. My family and I were together. That's all I ever really wanted. I felt so happy, I had tears running down my face. I remember hugging him. Smelling his scent, having it deep in my nose. His strong arms were around my tiny frame. My mother joined in. I could never have been happier than I was right at that moment.

I was 4 years old when I received the worst news. My father had a rare type of bone cancer. He probably wouldn't make it. I can still imagine the silence that filled the house. How my mother would look so dead and lifeless that I would sometimes cry when I see her. How my tears tasted in my mouth whenever I would try to talk to my father in his hospital room but failing miserably. He was so strong for all of us. He looked so pale. His eyes were sunken in from sleepless nights.

One year has passed. My father has never looked so pale and weak. He didn't even resemble the person he once was in the slightest bit. He lost all his hair from treatments, he was bone thin; I could see his veins pumping and can count every single one of his ribs and the spaces in-between.

Me and my mother drive to the hospital in silence. We haven't talked much since my father was diagnosed. We both were anxious of the news. The doctors had predicted that my father would be cured in one years time. We both were so happy that finally the time has come. I run into my father's hospital room. He looked like he was sleeping peacefully. His eyelids were closed lightly over his eyes. I try to shake him awake but he didn't move at all. No response. I start to panic. His chest wasn't moving. The heart monitor was a straight line. I was so scared. I could feel a wave of fresh hot tears stream down my face. He couldn't be gone. I wanted to spend and share more memories with him. I collapse to the ground bawling my eyes out, screaming in pain.

I was silent for a long time, a mute for almost 3 months. My mother was worried but I didn't pay much attention to her. She moved us both to London for a new life.

Some days ( most or all ) I would just stay alone in my room. I would float around the halls and classes like a ghost at school. The other students wouldn't pay any attention to me and if they did, it was to put me down even more. Attacking me with their words. I would just go through life's motions and events. I just didn't care anymore.

Life somewhat changed when my mother met my step-father and my step-brother. He understood what I was going through. He lost his father young too. He was my crying shoulder if I ever still missed my original father. He held me when I was depressed. Instead of seeing the usual black and greys in life that I saw since my father's funeral; my step-father made me and my mother see the colors of the rainbow that flooded back into our lives. Life got brighter with hope for a new future.

But that brightness dimmed when the accident ocurred. I could still feel the hot burning metal pierce through my skin and into my right lung making a gigantic scar that starts from my right chest area to the bottom of my stomach. I can still imagine the glass shard piercing my skin on my legs, arms, and sides.

My step-father was a much worse sight to behold. He hit his head on the wheel making a huge bleeding bruise on his right temple. His head was leaned back into the seat and his eyes were rolled to the back of his head revealing the whites and veins in his eyes.

My mother was lurched forward and the seat belt and airbag had crushed her small, petite frame. She had a bleeding cut on her left temple that was starting to ooze. Her skin was a sickly green.

My step-brother flew out the window and was miles behind us but I can still see his small body covered in bleeding glass. I was slipping in and out of consciousness. I blacked out.

I was to live with my aunt and uncle. They hated me. They thought that somehow that I had caused my father to die. How could they not see that I was hurting just as much or worse than they were? They didn't care about me. They didn't even help me change my bandages, give me my medication, or help me in any way at all. I stayed in their dark, leaky basement underneath the house. I was only given a straw mat and a pillow sheet. With no pillow.

Whenever Auntie was angry, she would always cuss me out and drive her nails deep into my skin. Sometime I would have to get stiches because she drives them in so deep. Whenever Uncle was angry or upset, and sometimes it's not even my fault, I was his personal punching bag. He would kick me in the ribs and although they weren't broken, they would leave horrible bruises in many shades of green, yellow, blue, and purple. He would slap me hard in the face leaving dark red handprints. He would grab his cigarette butts and drive them into the side of my neck instead of the ashtray. Life was Hell.

* Back to Reality *

I slump next to my brother's grave. I need to let this all out somehow. You don't know how grateful I am when I saw that no one was in the cemetary.

I take a deep breath and let it all out.

" WHY?!?! WHY DID YOU KILL THEM?!?! WHY DID YOU TAKE MY ONLY FAMILY AWAY FROM ME?!?! DO YOU EVEN CARE GOD?!?! NO!!!! YOU DON'T!!!! BECAUSE IF YOU DID I WOULDN'T BE FEELING THIS PAIN RIGHT NOW!!!! EVERY SINGLE DAMNED SCAR I HAVE IS BECAUSE OF YOU!!!!! " By now, it starts to rain and that seems to set me off even more.

" OH GREAT!!! NOW IT'S RAINING!!! CAUSE I HAVE THE BEST LUCK IN THE WORLD RIGHT?!?!?! WHY?!?! WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO A PERSON?!?!?!," I talk more quietly," Why didn't you just let me die with them? I wouldn't feel so alone on this day if you just let me be with my family again. How could you be so cruel?"

I collapse on the ground and cry. And cry. And cry. A hand is set on my shoulder. I turn around and was surprised at who stands behind me.