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JIMIN

I don't flinch as my father's body is examined by a professional. He eyes me strangely as he casts lights on my father's body. After I'd rushed into my father's room, I couldn't even stand by his bed and look at him.

It was a lot of cold and a lot of silence.

I had stood at the door, calmly - accepting what was and what had become. Accepting my fate. Everything was now under Mi Cha's name. And Mi Cha? She had taken her own sweet time sauntering over.

And that image of her calmly walking in, making a beeline for my father's bed and staring down at him - it had sent shivers dancing and twirling down my spine. And the image never left my mind. Coupled with the fact that no helper had seen him have a heart attack or issues, something was off. And that bothered me for a good day.

As funeral arrangements were carried out, I simply sat in my room and thought. And thought. About my father's death. About every memory of him and my mother and our happy family. And then about his wedding with Mi Cha (which I watched from the library that overlooked the ceremony). And then I thought about how his body slumped in bed, properly gone.

Until finally, I just had to watch the examination process of his body.

I didn't believe anything.

It took ages. A lot of swabbing and lights and silence. And then the professional approached me.

"We've found traces of poison."

Those words hung in my mind for a while before it registered. At first, I wanted to laugh. I'd caught her. I'd finally caught Mi Cha trying to end us all. And it was absolutely insane. But then my blood just boiled. She killed my father. It was cold-blooded murder. It was sinister, cruel and- wrong. It was so so so wrong.

And then my heart took a step back - it may not have been her.

My mind was an absolute mess.

And after that answer from the professional, I returned to my room with the official autopsy result. The paper was passed to and fro my left and right hand so much it started to wear. Eventually, I just slipped it into a drawer to stop looking at it.

I thought of how I could send Mi Cha to jail - then everything would come under my name again. But I couldn't. I wasn't a lawyer. I couldn't bring her to court. And then I thought of how everything had come to become this way. We were once happy, we truly were. How did we get here?

For a split second, yes, I did consider just fleeing as I'd planned. I wouldn't have to be entangled in a mess that I could possibly not get out of.

But I pictured my father. Or what he used to be - when my mother was around.

I would've died for that man. The man who doted on me and cared for his family. The man who used to care.

And that single thought carried me to the library and sent my fingers rifling through books about my family to find any help. The nearby town was of no help and I couldn't trust anyone here with that kind of information. Plus, I needed a new home.

No one bothered to enter the library because of the funeral preparations, so I stayed there for God knows how long. I found lawyers in our family but some were too far away. I narrowed my choices down till I found the closest and most trustworthy person I could - Park Hea. She's my aunt and still very well alive.

She lived in Paris which wasn't too far away compared to Korea or Australia where the other Park lawyers now lived.

Throughout this day of just searching and searching, I had caught myself multiple times. Was this truly worth it? Was it really? There would be no going back.

I'd looked out the window at that point, watching as the coffin was brought to the same exact place my father was remarried to Mi Cha. And that was when I knew I had to do it.

I drafted my route and that was it.

I was going to flee.

***

The wind howls above me and it seems as alone as I am. The grass brushes against my shoes and the rain occasionally brushes against my hair. The rain drags down my umbrella and down my father's tombstone - the lightning glimmers against his name.

The sky is a deep grey and the footsteps in the grass from the priest and relatives have been washed away. My grip on my suitcase tightens and I cast a last glance to the mansion. It's huge, looming and lit up. It was my father's and my mother's. And now? It is Mi Cha's.

After the funeral and dinner, I'd slipped back into my room and packed. Money, some snacks just in case, clothes - anything I could need. I even brought the gun my mother gifted me. I could never be too careful. I'd be doing this alone and the trip to Paris wouldn't be a quick one.

My coat feels heavy and I worry that it might be soaked with the rain but in truth, it's the only thing protecting me against it.

"Goodbye, father. Rest well," I murmur before I turn and walk away from it all.

My heart feels heavy and my gut is twisted in a way that makes me sick. This all makes me sick.

I just want to be home.

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