03

agowilt

(unnecessary fear)

15th June, 2019

[t/w : this chapter contains mentions of suicide. proceed accordingly.]

THE strings of Ye Bin's brain couldn't wring out the pandemonium of bewilderment as she closed the door, blocking the view of the previously rain-swept scenery. Nosy neighbour? Pretty much.

Koreans evidently cared about their customs and Ye Bin had no choice but to adjust to such 'heartfelt' transactions. She had already invested almost the entirety of her money in this hasty plan of residing at Jeju and there was no going back. It was a 'do or die' situation she was pushed into.

Her thumb twiddled with the seal of the bag with slight interest. A part of her was quite invested in the delicate packaging. It reflected the thoughtful nature of the giver. At the moment, she had no use of it. It hadn't been long since she had her lunch. Deciding to stop thinking about a mere food package, she put it down on the armchair of the living room.

Ye Bin's eyes drifted towards the corners of the living room. Most of the boxes that lied scattered, had necessities which needed to be unpacked soon. The major furniture pieces were yet to arrive. She had no bed for the present and wasn't really sure about where to sleep.

Her new abode emitted an unfathomable musty smell, that showed how much the place needed a proper cleaning session. Taking the initiative herself would be a great hassle, considering how she had a negligible sum of money in her purse and only a couple of zeroes beside another digit, in her bank account.

She was surely, in need of money. Leisurely lying around, wouldn't be of any use. One wrong step and she would be spending the rest of her life on the streets, begging for alms. It was a life she neither wanted to imagine nor reach.

Well, to god's grace, the sinks of the washroom and the kitchen were still in  good condition if not the best. The last thing she wanted to be involved in, was a toolbox in her hand for repairing basic amenities.

Her feet carried her to her newly selected bedroom. It was the only one which showed the greenery outside and the rays of the sun during sunny days. Probably, renting the first floor didn't even strike her until she saw the pictures of the position of the glass windows. It was a swan in a group of regular ducks.

Ye Bin sat on her heels, inspecting a brown box that was sealed securely with adhesive tapes. She picked the edge of the transparent film of the tape, with the tip of her index finger and gave a pull. The tape left the box with some of the flesh of the paper of the brown box. She immediately rolled the useless tape and discarded it off to the dustbin nearby.

She pulled open the the cardboard lids and gave the box a slight push. A few postcards spilt out. Being ecstatic at how they were still in a good shape, Ye Bin digged into the box with both her hands, pulling out other similar ones. The  papers held the tinges of brown and age splattered all over them. It's been almost a decade.

Ye Bin found herself browsing through the contents of the postcards. There were only first initiations from her side and replies from Choi Dong Yoon.

Had Dong Yoon been that distant? She could feel it more after she went through how he wrote back to her. How did she miss the small hints that he left behind, in those small paragraphs? Those brief and dull replies stung a lot. How was she so oblivious before?

The intrusion of the pulsating ringtone of her cellphone, cut her muddled thoughts short. She hauled the vibrating body out of the pocket of her pants and stared at the screen. It read 'Mother-in-law'. Fear crawled under her skin as she contemplated to pick it up. Ultimately, swiping right, she pressed the device onto her ear.

A sharp intake of breath could be heard from the other side. Of course. The great Choi Hee Nam would be disappointed if you didn't pick up her call after the first five seconds of the cellphone's vibration. It particularly applied to Yoo Ye Bin, her daughter-in-law, or more particularly, her former daughter-in-law.

"What took you so long to answer my call?"

"I don't sit back at home staring at the screen of my phone, to monitor when you are going to call." Ye Bin paused. Slowly, she added in an unsettled tone, "I have to earn a living and I am quite busy trying to rebuild my life."

"What are you upto?" the shrill voice of the aging woman sounded a bit hysterical today.

"Why? I believe that whatever I am upto, doesn't matter to you anymore." Ye Bin calmly stated.

"It surely does, Choi Ye Bin." Choi Hee Nam chewed her out. "You are still a part of the family and whatever you do is connected to how well we are perceived by the public."

"It's Yoo Ye Bin." Ye Bin corrected her. "I plan to not keep any ties with your family. It's over, mother. Every bit of pride y'all had, burnt when your son hung himself. I have no reason to be in the limelight anymore."

"You're speaking as if you have no connection to how he ended up." Hee Nam pronounced every word clearly. "My precious Dong Yoon. You pitted him against me and his family members. You. You are responsible for his death. You are the cause of everyone's misery. Don't pretend to be not behind all these."

"I am not related to this. I have said this before, too. Don't make me repeat myself." Ye Bin held back her tears, her voice growing overwrought with emotions. "The death of your son didn't affect you. The immediate loss of stable income and fame did."

"You are an ungrateful brat. It's very likely of you to push me at the corner when you have nothing to gain now. Do you think I was the one who crushed him? It's because of your incompetency that my son claimed himself to be -"

Ye Bin pressed the red circle of the screen before Hee Nam could speak further. She was still not ready to hear what she was going to say after that.

She was trying her best to find an identity for herself from the scratch. Choi Hee Nam could blame her as much as she wanted but there was no denying that Ye Bin had nothing to do with the scenario. The press had already sliced and stabbed her all over, when the news first circulated in the US. She had played the role of a despised and cruel witch. Probably, still was playing the same. The entirety of the suicide letter wasn't disclosed to the media and public, afterall.

She found herself sitting on the cold floor, surrounded by reams of postcards. A sharp pang of agony rushed through the insides of her body. She was trying her best to fight her sense of guilt and despair. There was no way to revive a dead person. Tears and the sound of heartbreak wouldn't bring him back. Was it so wrong to get over a past that she had once chosen over herself? This past had presented itself as a shining present then. She was blinded. She fell prey to a plan of deceit.

She had lost herself. There was once a glorious dream that was spun with golden yarn. She had pushed it away for a dream that was made of pinchbeck in reality.

Her hands made it to the cover of a nearby postcard and proceeded to tear it into half. Then slowly, into uncountable pieces. Tears streamed down her face as she destroyed her fond memories with her own hands. They were nothing but shackles that were tying her to a history she would rather forget. They were like thorns on the stem of a beautiful scarlet rose. They pricked her with all their might.

Gaining back her composure, she brushed off the remnants from her clothes. A quick shot of Adrenaline in her body made her stand up. Within a few minutes, she pulled out a fresh canvas from the largest box of all and placed it on the stand. Pencils, erasers, brushes, paints and an earthen pot brimming with water were arranged simultaneously.

She shifted weights from one feet to the other, stating at the white canvas in stark consternation. Here, she was! Facing a part of herself lost in antiquity. A part that needed quick resurrection.

With a deep inhale, she scratched the snowy texture with the grey outlines of a pencil. A fresh image stolen from her imagination started to take shape with the passing of every second.

The hands of the clock on the wall, paced to go on a journey of their own as time ticked away. It wasn't until Ye Bin noticed the blockage of her vision created by her own shadow, looming on the canvas. Evening had set in and Ye Bin realised that she was standing in almost darkness. The last rays of the setting sun set orange hues in the sky. To her mild surprise, the sky wasn't overcast anymore. It had found her way out of the obscurity. 

A loud rumble from her stomach put some thought about eating something in her mind. To her horror, she realised that she hadn't unpacked anything related to the kitchen and didn't even go out for the groceries. She had practically nothing to consume.

She felt a throb inside her head as she wiped the beads of sweat nestled on her forehead. The reminder of the abandoned package from the morning flicked in her mind suddenly. Maybe, she had something to devour afterall.

Ye Bin took heavy steps towards the living room. Exhaustion of the entire day's activities reigned in her limbs and her rumbling stomach did not help at all. Like a treasure found after a long adventure and struggle, the 'welcome' gift was lying on the armchair. Darkness flooded the room, the dim rays of the light from the bedroom struggling to trickle in.

Picking up the package, she rested her body on the armchair. Ye Bin placed the bag on her lap and undid the strings that tied it together. Two giant croissants peeked out. Hesitantly, she grabbed one and bit onto the cold flaky texture and closed her eyes briefly. They had been out in the room temperature for quite a while. There was a visible difference between how it would have tasted if it was warm and how it tasted then.

It was partly her fault. She couldn't afford to get a microwave. However, she felt warmth spreading in herself as she thoroughly enjoyed her staling dinner. The fluffy insides were like a maze when viewed from outside. Ye Bin couldn't help but acknowledge that the Ju Ho guy was kind of a good baker.

Finishing the other piece, she gave a loud belch. Folding the croissant bag neatly, she kept it on the top of a nearby box. Relaxing onto the armchair, she stared at the ceiling until her eyes grew weary and the weight of her heart's emotions pushed her into a state of deep slumber.

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[Word Count: 1924]