In This Life

The Loudest Silence

Song Ji

Where are they supposed to go? Song Ji thought as she draped a cool towel over her mother's forehead. Her mother's fever had worsened over the past few nights. Her skin was hot against Song Ji's touch, and her coughing episodes lasted longer and longer. They needed a doctor, which costed money that Song Ji didn't have. Kwang So had left nothing for her except clothes and the bed they slept on. He even took her savings and her mother's. What was she supposed to do now? The only valuable item she had was the book. Perhaps, she can sell it at the market and pay for a doctor to treat her mother's sickness.

But then what?

She remembered her mother worked at a restaurant, but the owner fired her for being too sick. Song Ji realized she had not once fretted over money, but now it was the only thing on her mind. She huffed and began caressing the strains of hairs on her mother's head who had slipped into slumber,

"I'm sorry," She breathed.

Song Ji couldn't cry anymore, for crying took tears and energy she didn't have.

"This... this was all my fault. I didn't know what it was that took over me. I'm so sorry."

Her lips and hands quivered as she spoke, "I promised you I could fix this, but... but omma, I don't know what to do."

Suddenly, her mother's hand clasped onto hers and gave a reassuring squeeze. Her brown eyes fluttered open, glistening with tears that held warmth and forgiveness.

"Song Ji, my sun and stars," She whispered, gently rubbing Song Ji's hands. Through the pain her mother had endured, she still managed a smile, "You can't be cut and expect no scars. I will help us heal. Together, we'll fix everything."

Song Ji dove into her mother's embraced and remembered when she was a little girl; she would race into her mother's arms when thunder and rain were pounding against her windows. Her mother would sing her to sleep until she woke up the following day to the welcoming light of the sunrise.

We'll fix everything, her mother had said.

Together.

●○●

The next day, her mother's demeanor and energy had brightened, unlike her fever, but it had brought new hope to Song Ji's heart. She had mentioned a cousin that lived in another village close by, a person who Song Ji was never acquainted with or known to ever existed.

"What about Uncle?" She inquired about the adventurous merchant who had gifted them the priceless articles in the first place.

Her mother's eyes softened, and she slowly shook her head, "We can't go back like this. They were all of his gifts, and they were stolen. It would grave me to see his face if we told him that, and besides, he could be anywhere in this world." Her words dripped with longing, and Song Ji wondered why her uncle hardly visited anymore. She couldn't even remember his face.

The next day they packed their little belongings, including her mother's book that she couldn't bring herself to sell and fell in with a free ride to the next village. Song Ji mentally cursed every time the wooden cart stumbled along the bumpy roads, shaking her and her mother like the inside of a snow globe. They sat with the case of vegetables and fruits, making Song Ji's stomach rumble, but she wouldn't dare steal one for fear of being kicked out. The rough sound of wooden wheels against dirt and rocks muffled her mother's coughing, and hours later, the cart finally stopped at their destination. Song Ji thanked the driver and quickly helped her mother off as they ventured towards her unknown cousin.

The town was no different than where Song Ji and her mother had lived, except it was slightly smaller and farther away from the Royal Family's palace. The town square was teeming with shops, vendors' carts, and villagers as they went on their day. The dirt was soft and squishy on her shoes as wheels and horses hurried past. Amid all the everyday chaos was an island of laughing, smiling children as they watched a puppet show. It reminded Song Ji of how innocent and straightforward her life was before any of this had happened.

"I visited her house several times when I was young. It's not a long walk from the main hall," Her mother told her.

Song Ji nodded and let her mother lead the way. She hopped her cousin would allow them to stay, or else their only other choice was to live on the streets. She heard rumors of shelters for homeless people, but it was also said to be dangerous. Song Ji couldn't imagine what they would do next if her cousin said no.

"Song Ji, we're here," Her mother announced.

The house was a traditional Korean house with slanted blue roofs that curved at the end like a corner of a page and large black windows under a cherry blossom tree. The weight of her mother's body was getting heavier as if it was difficult for her to continue walking. Going as fast as she could, Song Ji trudged up the steps.

"Song Ji, I--

She interrupted her, "We're almost there, mother."

They made it to the doors, and without a second thought, Song Ji knocked against the wooden panels. She heard a sound of muffled footsteps approaching, and the door opened to reveal a middle-aged woman dressed in a swamp green hanbok. Her almond-shaped eyes lit with recognition as she gazed at Song Ji's mother.

"Hye Ji?"

"Mi Na," Was all her mother said before she slipped to the ground.

○●○

"My husband will be furious when he gets home."

Her mother's cousin, Mi Na, had helped Song Ji carried her mother to bed and later offered her a cup of tea in the kitchen. She paced around in circles while Song Ji drank her tea in silence, biting back the daunting idea of her mother never waking up again. Mi Na must have seen the worries in her expression, for her eyes softened, and she sat back down, caressing Song Ji's hand.

"Your mother will be fine. She was always strong when she was younger. Now tell me what happened, child. Why did you come here?" Mi Na calmly asked.

Song Ji brushed the tears from her eyes, and before she knew it, words came tumbling out of her mouth about the books, about Kwang So, her mother's health, and how it was all her fault. Mi Na silently shook her head, her eyes coated with pity. Eventually, Song Ji felt physically and emotionally exhausted.

"The world is cruel," Mi Na whispered after she had finished, "You go get some rest with your mother. My husband won't mind... if I don't tell him."

Song Ji appreciatively took her offer and followed Mi Na into the guest room, where her mother laid asleep on the mat. The sky outside was an orange sunset, but Song Ji was still wide awake, afraid of what could happen once she fell asleep.

A few hours later, the door opened, followed by the sound of uneven, heavy footsteps and manly laughter that sounded like the roar of a giant. She heard the soft voice of Mi Na hushing the giant to calm him down, but the man didn't reply with words. A heartbeat passed then Song Ji heard the unexpected crack of flesh against flesh. She held her breath and clung tighter to her mother. More harsh sounds of screams, violence, and pleads echoed throughout the empty house until it abruptly stopped with the slam of a door next to their room. Mi Na must have told her husband they were here, and he had seemed to mind after all.

Song Ji tried to fall asleep and not listen to Mi Na's soft cries or the creaking of the mattress. Fear kept her awake until only her mother's rhythmic, heavy breath and sudden coughs filled the quiet air. She sighed, and finally, fatigue took over her body as her eyes lids grew heavy.

Late at night, Song Ji woke up again and saw only darkness, the moon was erased entirely from the black sky, and she heard nothing; not even a single sound was noticed by her ears. Unvexed, she fell back asleep, only to realized seconds later it was the absence of her mother's labored breathing.