Nine Months

Chapter 14

Her empty eyes stared at the ceiling, her hand reaching for it without consent.

"Please God, be kind to me," she murmured as light as air.
"This skin is tainted by wasted days, this youth is stolen by aching bones. Please god, I am too young to have these scars." Her words came out from the very deep of her being. She had lost her faith in God after what happened but she had no one else to resort to and after all, there surely is a power above us.

Her gaze averted to the wall clock, '2 P.M.' she had had a good sleep, maybe because of the exhaustion.

"Haru, are you awake?" A sweet voice made its presence.

"Ne Eomma," she affirmed, pulling her hand back from reaching the unknown.

Her mother entered the room, a very concerned expression on her face. "How are you feeling?"

She got up to sit on the bed and nodded once reassuringly. She too sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes never leaving Haru's.

"If you are comfortable, just know that I will be there for you. If you want to speak, speak. If you want to stay silent, stay silent. But, I'll be there."

A warm smile twitched her lips, suddenly she felt euphoric that she got such a person in her life. Being an orphan, she valued this relationship more than her life.

"Thank You Eomma."

"That's dry, give me a hug," the elder passed opening her arms wide. She crawled her way up to her and let herself be engulfed in her motherly embrace.

•••

"Come on you can do it!"

"No eomma, I don't like the smell of it, I will throw up!" She complained, giving grody expressions to the glass of milk. This was when he entered looking at the drama that was going on.

His mother, with two pom-poms in either hand, cheering like a cheerleader while his wife gave demotivated sighs.

"Stop acting like a bratty kid, Jungkook didn't throw this many tantrums while he was five."

"Yeah why would he," she sighed yet again, "he loves milk anyway."

He smiled, at least she talks about him, what if only a little.

"Oh look Kook's here," his mom said looking back at him once. Whatever expression she had on her face, whether it be grody or annoying, vanished. She was left with an emotionlessly pallid face.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"I am making her drink this milk," she pouted.

"Like this?" He chuckled at her way, "and where did you even find this thing?"

"I have my ways, and besides, you may not know these actually belong to you. You remember the skit you had in elementary when you had to cross-dress as a cheerleader?" She laughed, delighted at the amusing memory.

He was embarrassed, once looking towards Haru, but she had no marks of amusement on her face. Her face was blank.

His mom turned back towards Haru, grinning widely, "You know, he liked the taste of the lipstick so much that even after his play, he pleaded to put it on!"

Haru gave her a weak smile, pretending to be amused but she actually felt really uncomfortable talking about him. "Mom, I need to go, I remember I had to do some script reading," she lied and took her leave.

"Are you really not gonna tell me what happened?" She asked her son who was standing aloof.

He gulped. He should be telling her so she could help Haru but, Haru herself forbade him from doing so. And besides, he didn't possess the guts to take in the disgusted glances from his own mother.

"Maybe she has some childhood trauma. Kook, why don't you ask Sr. Marilyn? She had raised her since she was a toddler, she must be knowing."

Trauma? Yes. Childhood? No. Her wounds were fresh and she was dwelling in salty waters to aggravate them. He simply nodded and sank on the couch, he decided to use his room the least as possible.

•••

A/N: Isn't it odd how much fatter a book gets when you've read it several times? As if something were left between the pages every time you read it. Feelings, thoughts, sounds, smells... and then, when you look at the book again many years later, you find yourself there, too, a slightly younger self, slightly different, as if the book had preserved you like a pressed flower... both strange and familiar.