In This Life

The Last Alone

Song Ji

I'm a man.

Men are rash and ill-tempered.

Men are arrogant and unhygienic.

I'm a man.

Song Ji said to herself as Mi Na roughly pushed her into the cart of slaves and servants. She knew Mi Na would get a reasonable price, which is the least Song Ji could do for the wounds and bruises her cousin had to endure during her stay. Song Ji didn't get a chance to wish her goodby before the cart rode off on the harsh, dusty road. The sound of rickety, wooden wheels against the weathered terrain reminded her of her mother, of the time they rode together from her villager. Still, she couldn't risk crying or else she'd look weak in front of these men.

The slaves and servants weren't ordinary rambunctious men she usually saw in town. No, these were regal servants trained to service upper-class houses and their lordship. Most of these men were far more educated than other ordinary villagers, but luckily for Song Ji, Mi Na had a friend easily persuaded by a few extra wons.

Everyone was silent as the tortuous ride continued. Song Ji was grateful since she didn't have to speak to anyone. One word kept surfacing in her ocean of worries. Alone. Her mother was the only person she had left to look over and guide her, but now she is gone.

I'm truly alone now, Song Ji thought to herself.

Independence was a wish among people with liabilities, but when you have no one... it turns into the thing that scares you the most.

"What's with the sad face?" A soft voice whispered through the rumbling noises.

Song Ji looked over and found a large bellied man with a bald head as shiny as the sun. His cheeks were rosy from the heat with tiny, thin eyes like a mouse. Song Ji could tell he was nervous too. She looked around the cart to see if he was speaking to someone else, but nobody had the interest to look up.

"I'm not sad," She finally answered, "Just thinking."

The chubby man nodded his head as if he understood what she was thinking.

The cart moved through villages that quickly transformed into towns and towns to cities. Within several hours, Song Ji found herself amid the capital of Korea. Memories quickly surfaced in her mind of finally coming back home. With her mother, Song Ji lived in the more quiet, reserved side of the city where she rarely heard the loud, raucous she heard now, sitting in the cart. If only she were to jumped out of this cart and run back to... what? An empty, abandoned place that she used to call home? A flash of that night struck through her like lightning, her mother wailing on the floors, drowning in her own tears as Song Ji tried to put together such an apparent puzzle.

What a stupid girl she was.

It felt like ages since she's finally returned, and for some reason, she was glad to avoid the area where she lived. Plus, the chaotic stamina of the city distracted her sufficiently. She observed the large metropolis from the space of her little cart. The first noticeable thing was definitely the smell. They were driving past a market exuding the savoury scent of smoked bean buns or grilled red-skinned roasted chickens glistening with oils. Her stomach rumbled at the tantalizing sight. The things she would do for a slice of that chicken.

The market faded as her cart continued. All Song Ji could see were people, rich and poor, walking on the streets and buildings, restaurants, and shops open for business.

Finally, they came to a stop.

She arched her neck back, awestruck by the architecture ahead of her. It was a gate, or more accurately, a gigantic forest green serpent frozen into stone as it wrapped itself around the palace. Its scales glistened with sparkles and gold, extending to an unimaginable length. Song Ji couldn't see where it ended.

She watched the driver's and the guards' interaction. The old man who drove the cart said something, to which the guard frowned but nodded as he signaled to open the mouth of the green serpentine.

It was Song Ji's first time seeing the Grand Palace, and it was obviously, undoubtedly grand. She wondered why the king of Korea needed so much space when he basically had the whole country to himself. They were taken to the worker's entrance, where Song Ji could see the large grey body of the royal palace and its clouded cobalt roofs from afar.

She noticed the sophisticated and posh community that wandered the grounds in their former, affluent entire, the complete opposite of the villagers outside the gates. She was amazed as to how a green snake can be the separation between two utterly inverse societies.

Song Ji's eyes moved over to another part of the palace. It was a garden, flourishing with the freshest of Summer's cherry blossom with a calming, tranquil pond that reminded her of her favorite reading spot outside the bookshop. She could smell the sweet aroma of the flowers so close by and welcoming. Yet, she knew this foreign, majestic grandeur was anything but.