i remember | p a r t t h r e e

< k i m s e o k j i n >
[ 11 / 07 / 2017 ]

"I'M HOME!" HE ANNOUNCED ALOUD, all the while knowing there was no one there to respond. It had become a habit, ever since Seokjin moved out of his parents' home. At least then he had the butlers and maids to greet.

Seokjin entered with a sigh, closing the door behind him. Walking to the living room of his condo, Seokjin took a seat on the couch, his head hanging low as he massaged the back of his neck and loosened his tie. Even though it was just a dinner, he felt both physically and mentally exhausted.

Seokjin slowly sat back upright, his eyes landing on the red notebook sitting neatly on top of the coffee table. "Oh yeah," he mumbled under his breath. "I forgot."

Seokjin reached for the book and picked it up, flipping to the first page, reading the note written by the owner;

"min seohyeon
xxx-xxx-xxxx
please call this number
to return it if lost"

"Min Seohyeon, huh?" Seokjin mumbled under his breath nonchalantly. "Well, she has nice handwriting, I can say that."

As if a light reflected off of a mirror, Seokjin caught something glimmer from the corner of his eye. He looked to his side, to where his bedroom door was located.

There was no mystical voice in his head, no floating blimp of light, telling him to enter; more like a feeling — a magnetic force urging him to.

Seokjin stood up from where he was sitting and walked towards the door, turning it and slowly pushed it open. The midnight moonlight peeked through the semi-open curtains, illuminating the room enough for the bed's shadow to fall across his desk.

For some reason, upon entrance, he felt oddly put out of place. It obviously hadn't been his first time walking into his own bedroom but, every time he did, the room seemed unfamiliar to him. Almost as if this wasn't where he belonged.

In fact, his entire life felt out of place; going to work every morning, working longer hours than any old nine-to-five job, being someone he never wanted to be and following his stern father's lead, never questioning his authority — it was all out of place.

Of course, he always thought that was just him over thinking things, but somehow today seemed different. Today, it really did seem like this wasn't his room, that this was not his home; this isn't his life.

As if that same force that urged him to walk inside took ahold of him, Seokjin walked to his desk, towards the bottom drawer. As he held the wooden compartment, Seokjin hesitated before opening, remembering what lay inside.

He knew that if he opened it, there would be no going back.

나는 기억한다 | i remember

Seokjin licked his dry lips and pushed away his hesitation. He reached for the rusty metallic handle and opened the drawer wide, revealing a dust-covered red notebook. His journal. The one he'd kept for years, ever since he was a child. As he pulled out the notebook, a nostalgic feeling filled him.

Just by holding the book, the familiar tough of the wooden cover and the weight of it in his hands brought back his many memories writing in this same book as a child; it was both an incredible and frightening feeling.

Taking a seat on the edge of bed, Seokjin opened the notebook up to the first page as the memories of his middle school and high school years flowed over him.

The principal, his father's firm hand resting tightly on top of his shoulder, the bright light and the overwhelming fear before he faced his new life; it was all coming back.

As Seokjin recalled, many people think it was weird that he wrote his days and feelings out in a notebook. Some even taunted him by calling him names belittling him as a man, but, personally, Seokjin found it therapeutic.

Ever since his mother's death when he was a child, his father believed it was better for Seokjin to see a psychologist instead of talking it out with him. Though, Seokjin never really complained, Dr. Seo Man-soo was the closest thing to a father Seokjin had ever had before he returned to Korea from America to complete his last few years of high school. Back then he didn't realize it as much, but thinking back those had been tough times for a child as young as I'd been to go without the support of his father.

There, in his all too quiet, empty home, Seokjin sat alone as he flipped through the pages and read everything word for word. The good, the bad, the familiar, the disheartening; he relived all those years he had behind him.

Why did I forget this? He thought as he felt the nostalgia set inside. Seokjin flipped through some more entries, until finally, he landed upon those last few.

Every day before the last entry, Seokjin had persistently written an entry about his day into the notebook, dreaming of a future of him reading them and finding happiness in the many memories he shared with his friends. But when it happened, Seokjin stopped altogether.

Of course the day before Taehyung's funeral was Seokjin's last entry.

His eyes stung as he remembered the horrible day, the familiar tightening lodged its way in his throat once again.

The laughter and happiness before, the sound of the ocean and water splashing, the sirens, the sadness; it was all coming back in detailed visions.

The heartache was unbearable.

Just before he could slam the book shut and stuff it back down the drawer, not to be opened for another few years, he noticed a piece of paper sticking out of in between the pages.

Seokjin's forehead creased in confusion as he slowly pulled the paper. It was a photograph. And not just any — the photograph Seokjin took with all of his friends together, in front of the sea. From that day.

Seokjin remembered, that day him and his six other friends — Hoseok, Jimin, Namjoon, Yoongi, Jungkook, and Taehyung — decided to go on an spontaneous trip in the middle of the school day to the beach near their high school, as it would prove to be one of their many unplanned trips.

In the picture, Hoseok and Jimin stood in the middle, tackling one another, while the rest surrounded them, laughing so hard you can actually see them tear up a bit.

Seokjin smiled sadly as the wonderful image brought back that happy memory, an odd sense of emptiness filling him.

He missed them so much it hurt.

A sudden thought entered his mind. "The rest... I want to see them again." He heard his voice echo and ring in the silence he hated so much that surrounded him. "I don't want to live like this anymore. I never wanted any of this to happen — I don't want this."

He gripped the edge of the notebook as he looked up ahead, determined, his thoughts thrown into chaos. It was crazy and impossible, but somehow he just had to.

"I want to go back."

And that's when the bright light appeared before him, blinding him completely.

All that could be heard was the sound of glass shattering.

[ And like a whispering past, it came to me. ]
[ 그리고 속삭이는 과거처럼, 그것은 나에게왔다. ]