Healers

3 | save me

"Listen to my heartbeat. It's calling you at its own will

In this black darkness you are shining so brightly" - BTS

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I cross my arms and lean back on my chair as it rocks a bit before I release a frustrated sigh. I stare at the bright laptop screen with beaded eyes, as the words blind me: Adrianna Mikailov added you as a friend on facebook.

There is no way I'm accepting my mother's friend request on facebook obviously, but what infuriates me more is her new name now. I used to be jealous of her name: Yoon Mirae. Mirae meaning fortune, beauty and future. It described her wondrously because in my eyes my mother was beautiful. Then one day, she decided she needed more fortune.

She needed more money.

"Arden! What are you waiting for!" My father's voice rings from downstairs, and I snap out of my incredulity. "I can get you a lift to school!"

I turn off the power, quickly grab my bag off the lilac carpeted floor, and rush down the stairs, nearly tripping a few steps along the way. I make my way to the living room where Grandma is sitting on the arm chair, peeling a mandarin whilst watching a morning talk show.

"I'll be going now." I kiss her on the forehead, and she nods. "Remember to walk around the house a bit and do some light reading if you-"

"You're blocking the TV," She grunts and I nod.

That seems about right.

My father's voice booms at the doorway. "Come on Arden! Or would you rather walk to school!"

I sprint to the car parked outside the house with my father already in the driver's seat. He narrows his eyes at me as I approach the window. "Are you sure you're not trying to get me fired?" He says as I climb onto the passenger's seat.

I shrug. "Sorry."

He glances at me out of the corner of his eye but chuckles.

He shakes his head slightly in amusement. "You know I've been thinking a lot about the past lately. When you were little, you'd put on my uniform and badge and we'd play good cop, bad cop. You always wanted to be a cop. You'd always wanted to be like me."

I look out the window, almost guiltily where there isn't a single cloud in sight with just the sun's waterfall of rays cascading through the window, causing me to squint.

"Yeah, and Joonie would play the bad guy all the time," I say, but immediately regret it as I look back at him where his eyes have hardened, not looking away from the moving roads.

"Sorry," I quickly apologise. "I didn't mean-"

"No, no, I know I haven't been the most open to you. I know you need someone to talk to about him from time to time but you know your mother was always more of the 'talker', even when you were little. She knew how to have heart-to-heart conversations and do all that emotional stuff for you."

My father doesn't talk about my mother a lot. Never, really. I'm surprised at him mentioning her but don't comment on it. "I think you're doing the best you can. You're here."

He smiles sadly. "I wish your mother could also be here with you."

I whip my head to face him with eyebrows raised. "But she's not." I can't help the bitterness that laces my tone.

Dad purses his lips, deciding not to further the tense conversation. "Look Dad..." I adjust my sitting position to face him. "I just wanted you to know that I didn't stop wanting to be a cop because I no longer respected the profession, I just-"