tw: talk of death and murder
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Mr. Lee and I exited the club with one another and began walking down the crowded streets of downtown San Francisco.
"So, what's up?" I asked him as we walked with one another.
"Well, I figured we should get to know each other if you're going to be following me around all day, so what better time than now?" He said, shrugging.
"Okay, what's your story then?" I asked him.
"Like, how I came to be so stuck-up?" Mr. Lee asked me, causing me to laugh.
"You know what I mean," I grinned at him, testing my boundaries by playfully shoving him with my shoulder as we walked. "This might sound weird but I want to get to know you, you're enigmatic in every sense of the word and I want to know why."
"You want me to be honest about something?" Mr. Lee asked, raising a brow at me.
"What is it?" I asked him.
"It's been a really long time since I've had someone be so curious about who I am as a person or be so excited to meet me," He admitted to me, staring at his feet as we walked. "I honestly felt a little relieved when I found out that you were the one that hit me. I know it sounds silly, but I haven't felt needed like that in a while."
"I might be weirded-out if I were an outsider in this situation, but considering the fact that I was the one that hit you, I understand it," I said, nodding my head. "Do you know where your story starts?"
"Yeah, I do," Mr. Lee said, turning his head up and looking over at me.
"I feel like a lot of us have that moment in our childhood where we fully become conscious human beings whether we realize it at the time or not," I said, looking back at him.
"I was somewhat of a late-bloomer," He began, "It started not too long after my parents immigrated to America. They moved here to give me better opportunities because they recognized my capabilities early on. It was mostly my mom's idea, if I'm honest. She loved me much more than my dad did. Around a year and a half after we came here, my mom left work early because I had a high fever and I needed to be picked up from school. She crashed into a semi when she was speeding down the highway and my dad never forgave me for her death. That's where it starts. The only reason my dad didn't take us back to Korea right then and there is because my mom was so insistent on me being here."
I exhaled harshly, "I'm not going to offer you the bullshit condolences and sincerities, you've already heard them enough over the course of your life, I'm sure. I will say though that it most definitely was not your fault that she died."
Mr. Lee nodded with an unreadable expression on his face, "Thank you for that, that means a lot, honestly. Most of the time when I tell people they start freaking out and apologizing about what happened to me over and over, it gets incredibly annoying. I'm appreciative that there are people out there who care, but nobody gets it, you know? But see, the thing is, whenever I look in your eyes, I see that you get it too. You know that pain and you know it all too well."
"The fact that you figured that out about me just by making eye-contact is absolutely insane because yeah, you're right. I do," I said. "I saw it within you too but I wasn't sure if that was actually the case or if I just wanted it to be because you're also right when you say that nobody gets it."
"What happened to you?" He asked me, looking at me attentively.
"It almost sounds too ridiculous to even share," I laughed to myself.
"No, let's hear it," Mr. Lee said. "Nothing surprises me anymore, I don't think."
I took a deep breath, "I honestly don't even know how to put it into words. It's the most traumatizing thing I've ever experienced and I haven't talked about it since it happened. I didn't think I ever would again, but I think it's about time I try." I paused and took another deep breath before continuing, "I was eight when it happened. I think I was the first one to notice it, but I heard this loud banging on my front door and my fight-or-flight response kicked in instantly. I shut my bedroom door and immediately started tearing clothes out of my hamper. I kept throwing clothes over myself until I was confident I was completely hidden. What happened after that-,"
Mr. Lee cut me off, noticing the tears welling up in my eyes, "If you're not ready, you don't have to share."
I shook my head and rubbed my eyes, "No, I think I need to do this. I think it's about time."
"Whenever you're ready, then," He said.
"My dad went to the door to answer it and these two guys pushed him inside. They made him round up everyone in the house - my mom, my older brother, my younger sister, my younger brother, and my older sister too. The only one they didn't find was me. They shot them all execution style for absolutely no reason and just left. I don't understand it to this day," I said, wiping away my tears after. "I think a part of me died along with them because I haven't felt whole since the night it happened."
Mr. Lee swallowed harshly, "Do you know why they did it?"
"When the investigators found out who did it, they asked them why and they both said that they just wanted to do it. No rhyme, no reason. They just wanted to experience what it was like to kill multiple people at once. They plead guilty and got six life sentences each. A part of me is thankful that they get to spend the rest of their life rotting in a cell thinking back on what they did but another part of me thinks it's not. They get to move on with their lives meanwhile I'm stuck picking up the pieces. I hoped that over time I'd forget it, but I never did."
"Yeah, you never forget it, it just becomes easier to think about," He said to me. "I appreciate you sharing that with me, I know it was hard."
"Yeah, it was, but it feels good to get it off my chest to someone who understands what true loss is like," I said.
Mr. Lee stopped our walking and grabbed my arm, spinning me around to face him, "Thank you."
"What do you mean?" I asked him, tilting my head in confusion.
"I've felt more in the past two days than I have since-,"
I cut him off, "Me too."