1st September 1997- 010997.
It's nothing, but Jungkook's birth date. My mind can think of nothing but that. It's his apartment's passcode too. Is it a coincidence? It must be.
I look at the screen again and make sure the numbers are not the same, but they are clearer than anything I have seen. I don't know what's going on; I don't know what this is and what is this doing in Dad's files. I looked back at the screen and decided to close all of it down, it made no sense to me. And when I click on the screen, another video comes into sight. I take a deep sigh and double click on it.
The next thing on the screen tears my body apart with a shiver of terror in every corner of my body. It's Mom. It's my injured mom. There's blood everywhere on her, her clothes are tattered and she is barely conscious. Her eyes are closed with an oxygen mask on her face. I study the surroundings and it's an ambulance. I want to close it down, but I don't want to. I want to see her for as long as possible, but not in blood or around so many machines.
My heart feels like falling from its place, it's heavier than it has ever been. The video is two minutes long, as the ambulance is heading towards the hospital and the paramedic is shrieking to keep her awake. It's heartbreaking and my whole body is immovable. I fall to the ground and my head hits badly to the ground, but I don't feel it. It's numb. The video turns black now, but not in my mind. It's replaying again and again.
Dad never showed me any of her pictures from that day, even though he told me he had them. Nor did I see her at her funeral; he told me I can't see it. I didn't beg him either; I stayed quiet because it has been better for me. And now it seems like a blur to me. I feel guilty, but I am glad I didn't see her, or else her body was drenched in blood and injuries would have haunted me all the time.
Whenever I see her, she is smiling, she is laughing or even sometimes crying, but not like this. I don't know if I can ever think about her with those good memories from now on, but in her last moments, fighting for her life. The tears fall on the ground now and the apartment echoes with my shrieking and weeping sounds. I regret doing this. I wish I could have gone to Jungkook's and not done this thing.
But Jungkook? What about him? Despite my trembling body, I struggle to sit and open the pictures again. And the dots are connecting now. The second woman is mom; I remember these clothes, as fresh as yesterday. It matched the tattered shirt she is wearing in the ambulance, although barely visible because of the blood.
I look at the first woman, my eyes unclear of the continuous tears. I wipe my eyes aggressively from my hand and look at the woman again. Who's she? I cannot recognize her. The face can be clearly seen, but no, she isn't someone I have seen. I deny my thoughts on and on. Jungkook, the car? I close my eyes tight, sobbing along.
And as if my mind was working at its best, another thing popped up.
Miss Ombre?
I stare at that woman and try to understand her features. It's still 20%, I cannot say otherwise. I try to remember her face back when she was young, but it's all a blur right now. I cannot focus, but I need to. My mind clicks again. You have her picture.
I remember the flashback when I took a picture of her from Jungkook's wallet. I ran back to the storeroom and grabbed my phone, and crazily scrolled down the gallery.
There's it.
Without opening it, I run back to my room and keep my phone side by side with the laptop's screen. I zoom in on the picture of her with the car, and my heart shatters. It's her. It's Miss Ombre. The more I try to ignore it and tell my mind to stop accepting it, the more it becomes clear. It's terrible. My mind will blast anytime now, so I rest my head against the floor and do nothing but cry out loud. The number plate, I remember it now. Mom got my birth date on her car's number plate and just like that Miss Ombre got Jungkook's on hers. It's all there now. She was with mom that night. My body goes numb and I lay against the floor now. I want to die, right now. When I thought there's peace, there's rest to every worry of mine, this comes up ruining all my life; past, present, and future.
There is a wave of pain in my head and my chest, simultaneously and my blood is frozen. Before I could pass out, I heard a faint thud of the door. The footsteps walk inside and trace around the hallway. As soon as dad reaches my room's open door, his smiling face faints seeing me laying numb on the ground.
"HANA!" he screams and runs to me, dropping a shopping bag from his hand.
I look at him. He is disturbingly bothered. I don't know what to say to him. He is asking me if I am okay, but I don't even have words to say that I am not. I hate him so much right now. He hid so many things from me, all my childhood, my teenage, and now. He has deceived me all the way along. I doubt he considers me as his daughter. I doubt if my existence makes a difference. I am staring at him blindly, but he is tapping my face.
"Hana, please say something." I finally heard from him.
"What have you been doing-" his mouth seals close when he looks at the laptop. He clicks something and then moves the cursor and then clicks something again and finally, opens the CD drive. He keeps staring at that CD in his trembling hand as if it was his worst nightmare, and he finally falls to the ground.
"Do you have anything else to hide from me, dad?" I say my words so faint that I could barely hear them myself. He suddenly starts weeping, with his head in his hands.
"Tell me everything, dad," I say aloud. "Please."