Til Death Do Us Part - Chapter #2 - Free To Read

“I’m so sorry, Sohla.”

The familiar man’s words fall on deaf ears, and I stare blankly at the pictures on the flower altar, consumed with nothing but numbness and emptiness, as though I have lost all sense of everything and exist only in a black hole. There’s no oxygen in this space, no air or breeze, no sensation except stifling heat and oppressive, claustrophobic surroundings. For all I know, it could be a lifeless and empty bubble holding me prisoner in this atmosphereless existence.

Not hearing him, I continue to look ahead. Taking in the rows and rows of white flowers of every kind, laid out perfectly to nestle their images so respectfully on top—a wall of white to counteract the room's darkness. Candles burn to each side of the loving faces, illuminating subtle smiles with an ethereal glow, yet it all feels ugly and wrong. They shouldn’t be here. Fixated.

I don’t respond, unable to move or breathe, and gaze emptily at the two shining faces staring back at me as though devoid of all ability to move. My heart aches physically inside my body, and my stomach hurts with splicing pangs, yet nothing comes out, and my face is bone dry. I’ve lost the sensation of my limbs so that I no longer feel attached to my own body and stay as I am, lifeless and still without blinking, unaware of how my legs shake to keep me upright. I have no concept of time or how long I have stood here. Only I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now.

“Thank you for coming. It means a lot to see you here.” Jyeon’s mother’s voice flitters around behind me. Strained and low as though she’s been crying endlessly. Talking to all who come by to show their respects, yet I can’t turn around to see her. She pulls the voice away from me and mutters some other words of comfort and thanks, and it fades out to the same eery nothingness of before. Locked on and focused only on dark brown eyes, the flawless complexions, and the warming smiles on their faces, I want to climb out of that frame and exist in my reality. I want their voices, their laughter, even their anger. I need to have them reach out and touch me just one more time.

“Sohla…. We need to move. It’s time.” Jyeon’s voice comes through this time. A gentle touch on my elbow as he delicately tries to break my trance, and I’m pulled out of my own head. Startled into sense by his breath lingering by my right ear, tingling my nerve endings, I shudder. The husky-safe tone of the source of support this past week, and I turn my face and blink at him. Dazed in my surreal surroundings. Seeing nothing but a blurry image before me, his presence is wanted compared to everyone else. He’s been Jyeon of my childhood. Jyeon that I missed to the point of despair without ever knowing it. The dependable and caring Jyeon who was with me for every milestone of my youth. The soothing voice and mature words. The kid who would take my hand and help me keep up with all the boys he hung around with, never letting them use my gender to diss me.

“I can’t leave them here. They don’t belong here.” I utter breathlessly, whimpering, staring hopelessly into those dark eyes which mirror my pain and sadness. Jyeon’s heart is broken, too, maybe not to the same depth as mine, but we share a pain that has held us together these hours, and I’ve come to depend on his presence to get through this today. He’s been grieving silently and strongly, never showing me how truly broken he is so that he can instead be what I need to stay standing. Without him nearby, tending to me, and sticking close, I would have collapsed hours ago.

“I know. You can’t stay here though. You haven’t eaten all day and haven’t moved from this spot to drink or rest. It’s late; you need to come home with us. Please.” Jyeon slides an arm around my shoulders and attempts to move me, but I hold firm. I am inwardly breaking down with the thought of no longer having them with me, of having them there when I go home. They will lay here without me for God knows how long if I go. This is the last moment with them, the last physical connection, and then they’re really gone. Just thinking of walking away steals my breath away and closes my lungs.

And home? Where is that, and what is that now? Is it a building of brick and mortar which holds my every memory since birth, or is it the place where my parents went? How can I go somewhere that doesn’t exist anymore? I’m alone now. There isn’t anyone there that I want to go home for. It’s just a word, an empty, meaningless word without them there to warm its core.

My heart erupts into a fireball of agony, and the tears, which have been held at bay for the last seven days, break through as my face crumbles. I sob aloud, gasping and agonizing, searching for air as my legs give out, and Jyeon pulls me into his arms to catch me before I fall. Cradling me close and rubbing the back of my hair as my emotional floodgates crack. He sinks with me to accommodate my body weight, so we end up crouched together.

“I want my mom……. I want my mom, Jyeon. Please bring her back to me. My dad…. my dad, Jyeon… How could they? Why? Why did they leave me? Give them back to me. Please…. just give them back. I’ll do anything. I’ll be good; I won’t argue…. I’ll do whatever they say, whatever you say. Please, help me.” I wail and sob senselessly and cough and wheeze, trying to get the words out that break my soul in two. My brain is a scattered, chaotic mess, and each word falls out of my mouth, rambling of its own accord. My whole world crashes around me as every part of me gives up the fight to stay in control, and he gets my full outpouring. The realization that this is the final moment with my parents and that the connection between them and me in the real world will never exist again. Their bodies will be ash by morning, and nothing but my broken heart will hold them near. I haven’t got it in me to let them go. I’m only sixteen years old. I need my parents still. I’m just a kid.

“I would if I could, Sohla. I swear. I would do anything to give them back to you.” His words are forced through his emotional trembling and wavering voice. He is holding back his need to cry too, because that’s who he is. Jyeon squats down with me, so we both end up on the floor properly. Me in his arms and curled up tight, clinging to him while he hovers and balances to keep me close. His knees are on either side of my body, so I’m encircled in his protective space. Letting me cry it out while he rests his cheek on my head, pats my back, and sways me side to side as though I’m five years old. Cuddling me as he used to when I had fallen, distraught with a grazed booboo, or was crying over spilled ice cream, or someone had been mean to me.

“Why did they leave me?” I howl through my muffled tears, covering my face with both hands, desperate to stop the pain wracking my body. I am immersed in this darkness that’s pulling me down. I cannot find relief as it only builds and grows to levels I can’t handle.

“It was an accident. They would never choose to leave you. They loved you more than life, Sohla.”

“I should have been with them…..I shouldn’t have stayed home. They asked me to go too…..why didn’t I go?” My guilt at letting my parents leave that rainy night to watch a movie weighs like a steel ball in my heart. The regret at staying back for that one night because I was tired and didn’t want to spend time with them after getting home from finishing school in London only days before. Resentful that they made me go and tried to give them the cold shoulder for making me live away from home for a full three months. I had been punishing them by refusing them my company, and now I can never get that back.

“Don’t say things like that. We’re only able to hold it together because we still have you. They wouldn’t want you to be gone like they are. They would want you to go on and live your life as intended.” Jyeon continues cradling, swaying, patting, and holding me, but nothing eases the agony. It’s growing so big I feel like I might die.

“Sohla, please listen to Jyeon and come with us. I think my mom will pass out if she stays here any longer. You need to lie down, and you need to eat. I’m really worried about you.” Yoonie’s voice breaks into my hysteria, and I push my face up in the crook of Jyeon’s arm to see him. The now handsome fifteen-year-old, leaning over his brother’s shoulder and looking so devastatingly like him while retaining all the cute and sweet that is so Yoonha. He reaches out to stroke my hair as he moves close, and I can see his face is tear-stained too. Pale and worn out. He’s been sobbing all day, standing at the back and unable to do anything for me except watch and wait.

“Go. Both of you. Take her home. I’m not ready. I can’t leave.” I despair again. The tears now set free are relentless. My nose runs, and my throat clogs with their sheer volume.

“I’m not leaving without you. Neither will she. You’re our family; we won’t abandon you here.” Yoonah holds my hand tight, squeezing it until his knuckles whiten, and I know I’m being selfish, but I can’t help it. I’m not the only one in pain, but mine is so big it overshadows everything else. I can’t help them. I can’t care about anyone else’s heartbreak when I can barely handle my own.

“Take mom home with dad. I’ll bring her when she’s ready. Just go. Let Sohla have time here alone while all the guests leave. Let her say her goodbyes without people watching her.” Jyeon takes control, the commanding and mature side kicking in. For being only eighteen, he has long felt like a man in my eyes, and I lean into him, looking for shelter, relieved not yet to be torn away. Despite our usually formal and awkward interactions, he’s been a rock by my side since the moment I found out my parents had perished. Someone to cling to when everything else I knew was washed away in the storm.

“I’ll stay with her. You go. I’m her best friend.” Yoonah tries to slide me out of his brother’s arms, but Jyeon tightens his grip and hauls me closer.

“And I’m her fiancée. Know what’s proper, Yoon. People don’t stop judging and whispering just because we’re mourning.” Jyeon pulls me with him to standing, taking my weight easily. He wraps his arm around me protectively, pulling my face against his chest, and leans into Yoonha. “Be her brother. Empty the hall, see our parent’s home, and do what you should do.” It’s a low and calm command. One that dares Yoonha to challenge his older brother, and he knows better, relenting and nods. When it comes to hierarchy, Jyeon is the one who should be obeyed.

“Don’t stay here long. It’s cold; she gets sick easily at this time of the year.” Yoonie can’t help himself from being that caring and reliable boy I depend on almost daily. These past years he’s been my shadow and kept me sane in a society that’s often cold and shallow. He’s probably my only real friend since Jyeon grew up faster than us and viewed us as little kids.

“You think I don’t know her?” It’s a snappish response, and I, even in my dazed, silent crying, glance up at his unusual attitude towards Yoonha. Shocked out of my grief at his irritation. I catch him frown, and then he swallows hard with regret at his harshness as his features soften. Yoonah is visibly scolded and wide-eyed as he stares at him with definite hurt on his sweet face.

“I’m sorry. We’re all raw and in shock. Ignore me. I know Sohla as well as you; I can take care of her, so trust me. Please don’t do this today. She doesn’t need it. Take care of mom and dad. For me, Yoon, I’m depending on you.” He reaches out and rubs Yoonah on the side of his face and ear with genuine affection to soothe the bruised feelings, and I quietly allow myself to be maneuvered with his own body. Like a limp rag in his arms and too numb to even react to this unusual physical contact between us. The last time Jyeon hugged me this way was my eleventh birthday before they told us about our fate.

Yoonah eyes me warily and seems upset that his brother is taking the role of his place as comforter and best friend. I know Yoonah inside out, and he takes pride in the fact that we’re sometimes inseparable twins. He’s hurting too, and he probably thinks that being together would be easier on both of us, but Jyeon is right. All eyes are on us, with every single media outlet publicizing my parent’s tragic accident. So many milling guests still in here, and rumors start so quickly. If my official fiancé were to stand aside for his younger brother, the papers would be filled with scandals tomorrow and cause only drama to an already unbearable situation. That’s the reality of this heartless world of money and status.

“Give her to me. She needs a mother more now than a fiancée or a brother.” Jyeon’s mother cuts in and appears behind Yoonah, moving him aside with a gentle slide, and holds her hand to me. Her face is pale, tear-streaked, and grey.

“Jyeon, the press is outside still; go deal with them. Make sure everyone leaves. See your father home. He’s a mess.” She nods to her eldest son, and he exhales heavily before caving and transferring me from his arms to hers. My body cooling instantly without his immense heat, even through his suit. As though I’m a doll with no ability to choose for myself, I welcome the softer figure pulling me close, and I’m surrounded by musky perfume and the familiar scents of a woman who has been a second mother to me my whole life. I need a mom hug right now.

I bury my face against her chest and allow her to envelop me as fresh tears start to fall fully, and despite never having this woman embrace me this way in my life, it feels like I’m somehow safe and sheltered. That I can take a few more steps if she just won’t let go.

“From now on, Sohla, you’ll be with us. Our home is yours. My hugs are yours. You were always the girl I saw as my future daughter, and now you’ll live that way. I won’t let Tayha down. I’ll raise you, love you, stand in her place, make her proud and try my best to be what you need. It’s what she would ask of me. I’ll stay here for a while, and we can say goodbye. I want to say goodbye to them too.” She wraps her arms around me tightly, and I try to blot the world out, unaware that Jyeon leaves to deal with the lingering press, to take control, or that Yoonah walks off looking lost. That Mr. Park is a walking zombie who doesn’t know how to deal with losing his best friend and business partner who created their empire.

His intimidating aura is non-existent, and he hasn’t been sober in seven days. That the staff, the family members, and distant relations all slowly ebb away, lost in their loss and misery, because my parents were truly good people who were the glue for all of us. Unaware that this would be day one of my future changes that would forever haunt me and change the direction I would go.

The only thing I’m aware of is needing to anchor myself to Mother Park and cling on desperately. I know this is only the beginning of the pain and grief I have coming, but it somehow lightens the weight, knowing I don’t ever have to return to that empty house where my parents will never appear again.