Pickpocket | Jaywon

33

Footsteps shattered the bubble Jongseong had wrapped himself in, sounds, every single sound coming into his ear became pure static.

Rushing into the hospital, he had gained a couple weird looks at his sudden appearance, but Jongseong couldn't care less. Not when his heart felt like it was being ripped out of his chest, his mother–his mother. The only woman he had ever loved with his whole heart, the thought of losing her like this absolutely shattered him.

Reaching the seventh floor where her room was located, the heels of Jongseong's dress shoe clicked rapidly against the marbled floor.

He couldn't be late,

He can't be late.

His heart is for sure going a hundred beats per minute, every shadowy thought gripped at him like raven claws,

Room 1130.

His heart felt like it just stopped. It was no longer beating like crazy drums pounding, no, it was now steady, as if the paralyzing shock threw a thick blanket over him. A sharp stinging pooled in his eyes before he could even register he was crying.

The door to the room was open, about five nurses surrounded the bed, a doctor adorning a white coat stood closest to the bed. And on the bed, on the white colored cot, laid his mother.

Her skin was as pale as snow, lips no longer their rose red, instead it was pale almost purplish. Eyes closed. Yet her long black hair rested against her bare shoulder, flowing like silk against her body that was no longer breathing.

Jongseong shakes his tears away, emotions shuddering through him. It was as if the numb shock had disappeared. As if a fist shattered the glass he was protecting himself in—protecting himself from the truth. But it couldn't be true—it just couldn't be true. There was no way that his mother, his beloved mother who had raised him since he was nothing but a mere embryo within her womb, is now lying lifelessly just a foot away from him.

And if Jongseong looks close enough, he could see that he wasn't the only one who was crying. The doctors and nurses all had tears pouring down their faces,

"Mr. Park!" a female voice calls out, seemingly having noticed the Byrid boss's presence.

Her voice sounds foreign in his ears. Everything did. All Jongseong wants to hear is his mother's soft lulling voice. Wants to hear her tell him that she's okay, that this is just some mere joke, or that he's having a nightmare–anything, just anything,

But nothing, not even a single huff escapes her cold body as he approaches her bed. Her eyes that were once gleaming with life, brimming with brown honey coloring, were closed. Resting underneath her eyelids.

"Eomma.." Jongseong's voice comes out in broken forms.

This must be the feeling he's heard many talk about, the feeling of losing someone, the feeling of losing someone physically, yet their soul, the lingering bits of them will always reside in a deep place within your heart.

"Mr. Park," This time it's the doctor who speaks up,

Jongseong's teary eye shoots up from where he had grabbed onto his mother's lifeless arm.

"I am so sorry for your loss," The doctor began, his eyes were wary, almost shaking as Jongseong stared at him.

"A woman signed in for a visit with Mrs. Park about an hour ago, we had phoned Mrs. Park to make sure she was comfortable with the woman coming up. She had said yes, and she seemed to know her very well so we left them alone to speak." The doctor says, "But when one of our nurses came to check in on them, the woman was gone, and–"