Someone to stay || minsung

25

Chapter 25: She told me she was coming back.

"I have spent my life resisting the desire to end it."
Franz Kafka—

"I'm not here to adopt you, Minho."

What am I supposed to answer to that? Noona stays quiet at the corner of the room, she doesn't lift her eyes from the floor. I don't know what's going on.

The woman next to my father steps a bit closer to me. I instinctively back away when she tries to touch my shoulder. She sighs. "Sweetie, this isn't something personal against you." Her voice is high-pitched and annoying. "Your father and I have just rebuilt our lives and you aren't a part of that."

My eyes travel until I meet the dark ones of the person who's supposed to share my blood. "But I'm your son. I don't understand why you would come here and just leave like nothing happened, without taking me with you."

He scoffs, crosses his arms defensively. "So your mother abandones you and it's fine, but I refuse to include scum like you in my family and now I'm the bad guy?"

"Mom told me she was coming back."

Him and his wife start obnoxiously laughing. They even have to wipe some tears from the corners of their eyes. I don't get what is it  that's so funny.

My father, though I'm not sure if I should call him that, rummages through the pockets of his suit and eventually pulls up a photo. He hands it to me with a teasing smile. "You mean her?"

I hesitantly look at the picture he gave me but instantly regret doing so.

It's my mother, laying on the floor of our house. She's surrounded by empty bottles of different alcoholic drinks, the ones I remember seeing everywhere as a child. I never understood what she likes about them because, that time I tried to drink some when I was two because I was just too hungry, I couldn't even take a sip without my throat burning and throwing up right after.

The bottles aren't the problem, though, no. What is wrong with the photo is that she has vomit all over her face. She looks dead, pale as a ghost.

"Is that the mom that's gonna come back? Is she gonna revive just for you, Minho?" my father says, his tone mocking. His wife laughs next to him.

Air leaves my lungs and everything that happens next is a blurr of grey. I have a pretty bad headache and can just hear the voice of my mother in the back of my head.

The next thing I know, Jisung is hugging me. Why is Jisung hugging me? He said something about getting accepted in school.

His embrace feels warm. I'm trembling between his arms. I have started crying. I can't breathe anymore. I'm being vulnerable in front of my Sunggie. What is he going to think about me now?

Aera Noona separates me from him and Jisung asks what's wrong. He looks concerned, but he shouldn't be. It feels shameful to be looked at with those eyes that reflect my weak image with so much detail.

I smile and congratulate him for getting into school, then just leave because I don't think I'll stop crying soon. He doesn't try to follow me, or maybe he does and Noona stops him. She's the one walking behind me, not Jisung, that's the only thing I know.

When we reach the empty rooms meant for the boys of the orphanage, I get under the covers of my bed, burry myself deep inside the warmth of solitude, the knowledge that no one can see me cry in here being the greatest relief I've ever known.

But there's a hand rubbing soothing circles on my back and a kind voice calling my name.

"Hm?" I hum, trying to hide my sadness as best as I can.

I lift the covers just enough to see Noona's face, her comforting grin. "Are you going tomorrow, darling?"

"Where?" I ask, genuinely confused.

Noona lifts the covers even more and now my torso is also exposed to the real world, the one that will judge me for being like this. I let her manhandle me until I'm a little ball on her lap, a messy ball that can't stop crying. "Your mother's funeral, baby. It's okay if you don't want to go, but, if you do, I'll be there with you."

She speaks softly, massages my scalp with care and hugs me tight to keep me safe. I'm grateful for everything she's doing, but I still refuse to relax and fully let go because boys who cry aren't loved, like mommy used to say.

"I don't know." I whisper. Maybe I should go and say goodbye one last time. Maybe she'd want to see me there. I don't know.

Noona pushes me closer to her chest and I can perfectly hear her heartbeat. "Minmin, baby, you're allowed to cry. You're allowed to be sad about this and about anything that makes you feel that way. You're only eight, it's okay. I'm here for you, darling. I'll always be here for you."

I sob, her words make the tears more abundant. Are they true? Am I allowed to cry? "But mommy always said that boys who cry are weaklings and attention seekers. She said no one would love me."

This is the first time I've ever told anyone about what my mother used to say. Noona is the first person I'm allowing in this space inside my head, this weak part of me I'm used to suppressing.

"Minmin, lovely, that's not true." she whispers. Her smile never falls and she keeps trying to calm me down. "You're okay, baby. Let go, cry. I've got you, my dear."

Should I trust Noona? Is she saying the truth, or will she change when she sees how weak I really am? Will she not love me anymore if she sees how broken I truly am?

She grabs my face with both hands and lets the tears that keep streaming from my eyes wet her palms. Noona kisses my nose and my forhead, then my cheeks. "Minho, I'll never let you fall. I'll always be here to get you and pull you back on your feet, and nothing you do or say will ever change that, okay?"

I can't take the pain anymore, can't hide it, so I do as she said even if it terrifies me. I hide my face on the crease of her neck and cry like I want to, like I need to, until my throat hurts and my eyes sting, until I'm physically unable to keep on crying anymore.

For the first time in my life, I am myself and it doesn't feel as awful as hiding away my emotions.

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song: forth of july (sufjan stevens)