The Porcelain Afterlife of Momoko Hara

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For a long time, I tried to understand why it happened. Why a girl like me thought I wasn't enough. What made him seem so special. But it didn't matter why. Once he was in my heart, there was nothing that could save me from what I did.

That Friday night it had rain, at least from what I remember. It's been so long since I've felt the sharp touch of rain on warm skin. It's easy to misremember. What I never forgot was how small I used to feel in a city so big. That's always stayed with me.

I walked through the narrow streets of Hongdae and splashed through the colored puddles of rain at my feet. Smoke billowed up from the street drains to neon lights above and the buttery scent of fried food from the street carts made my stomach ache. I watched the couples pass by under their shared umbrellas and I listened to their whispers. They all smiled so easily it seemed. I wondered if they were as happy as they looked. Now that I had turned fifteen, I often wondered this.

The crowded street corner was blocked with cardboard displays outside the shops. I gripped my hand around the strap of my heavy backpack and walked faster on my sore feet. My red Converse shoes were a size too small now. Grandmother said I could buy another pair once we had enough money but with the rising price of food it had been months since I just stopped asking anymore.

Maybe I could walk by Mr. Cho's store to see if he had a pair on sale. Then I could gain the courage to ask grandmother again tomorrow morning.

I turned the corner, away from the music that blasted from the arcade and down a dark alley towards Mr. Cho's store. I wasn't sure if I had taken the right turn but at the end of the road was something that pulled me in with ease like a sharp needle through thin paper.

It was a glossy poster, glued on a tall brick wall. Below, headlights illuminated the bright peachy colors, and above the moon glowed through the purple clouds. I had seen many posters like this around the city. They always featured a girl with a cheery white smile and a smooth, flawless face. Beside her, a handsome man had his arm wrapped around her slender shoulders.

There was something about this girl that made me feel different than before. Something about her large inviting eyes that reminded me, if just for a moment, what she had and what I didn't.

Tucked in the corner of the dark alley was a small shop with a red neon sign outside its bright window. From the window, I could see the glowing white shelves of bottles and jars inside. I looked over my shoulders to check if anyone from school was around and walked through the door.

The bell of the door chimed as I walked into the bright fluorescent lights of the heavily perfumed store. In the back, an old woman with a short gray perm sat behind a counter, and by my feet, a fat white cat slept on a round red pillow. I ducted my head to avoid the old woman's suspicious stare and turned into one of the rows shelves.

There was everything you could imagine stocked on these shelves. Each bottle was painted with a promise on the outside of its colorful plastic. There was a bottle to make my hair smoother, another to make my skin brighter, and another that claimed it could trim the shape of my face. Did every woman need all of this? It made me wish my mother was still alive. Maybe she could tell me.

In the next row, a girl was reading the label of a pink jar in the shape of a heart. Her hair was bleached caramel blonde and curled into big waves. I ran my pruned fingers through my straight black hair and picked up a bottle of shampoo.

"For thicker, shinier, better-looking hair," I read and flipped the top open.

I lifted the blue bottle closer to my nose and breathed in its calming scent of sweet honeysuckle and warm almonds. I turned the bottle over and admired the gold foil of its foreign words.