As the only child of the family, growing up has always been seemingly lonesome. I almost never saw my parents, because they never did have time for me. All they've given me are the physical things to fill up the void in my life, the same hole they've created. They never were parents in the true sense of the word. But I always have my imagination, and I've always believed that having a mental ability to form a creative thought is a strong skill, and it got me through the loneliness. You can just imagine how a kid as young as myself felt back then. I understood how things were at such an early age, and it was almost too much for me to take. I always go around by myself inside our giant house, with two maids to look after me, until one day my grandmother came, and things took a turn for the better.
When I was five years old, my grandma took care of me, while my parents were away on their business trips, and even when they got home from a tiring day at work. She always comes to our house to babysit me, and she took pleasure doing so. She told me that my presence pulls her away from the loneliness of living alone inside a big old house. Despite her saying that, she has always been keen on telling me stories about that ancestral house, and how my father grew up there, together with my deceased grandfather. In my mind, I can picture a large house filled with memories of a loving family, with an extravagant garden in the backyard. Inside my young brain, I can picture perfectly how the house looks like, and it looks so beautiful to me.
Grandma's house is located at Jinhae, a city known for its Cherry Blossom Festivals. She took me there for the first time when I was five. We went aboard a train and it took us a good three and a half hour ride.
I remember her stories about me when I was young. She told me that my attention span is questionable. That she'd be lucky if I can absorb myself into one single activity without screaming bloody murder after a minute.
The first time she took me in her house, she noticed something different about me. She told me how I ran around the house, as big as it was, I didn't even stop to catch my breath. She continuously complained to me how I was running so fast that she lost me, and how it took her a good five minutes to find me.
There I was outside, standing in front of an arch made of tan wood timber. It was filled with roses as red as blood, and it may seem normal at first, given the fact that those flowers are in bloom, and how its beauty might have caught my attention. But what she found odd, was how I was looking down on the green grass instead of the flowers. She saw how my head was tilted to the side, looking so confused. My grandmother was taking her time catching her breath. She saw my five-year-old self slumping down on the freshly mowed grass, and how I was giggling at something I'm looking at. She told me that she thought I might just be looking at the wilted flowers on the ground, or something else that took my interest. But I gave her a fright when I started talking, speaking words like I'm having a conversation with another person. That's when she ran towards me, took my hand and put me inside the comfort of her house.
I don't really remember anything, all that I know are the things that she told me. I admit that I was a weird child, but she never did let me go to that part of that garden again.
"Who were you talking to Eunji?"
"I saw big man, grandma. He was sleeping."
"A big man?"
"Uh huh. I sat beside him aann, annn he woke up. He got pretty eyes."
She told me this story once, yet it never stopped lingering inside my head. I tried to remember something, anything, yet no matter how much I squeezed my brain, I still got nothing. Every time I go and visit her, whenever I set foot inside Gyeonghwa Station to come back home to Seoul, all the memories I've made in that place slowly vanishes into thin air. It was frustrating. I started doubting myself. I even went to the extent of thinking whether I suffer from short-term memory loss or not, but I highly doubt that's the case. All I can remember is how I was so eager to stay inside my favorite room.
Every time I visit grandma, she always takes me around the city, and I was always happy to make memories with her. But at the end of the day, even when I'm not tired or sleepy, I always lock myself inside that room, and I never close the windows, I never do.
The last time I visited her was when I was thirteen. Now that I'm at the ripe age of twenty, I decided it was high time I come back to that old house. I can feel something inside me boiling, itching to leave this place and go running back to my grandmother's. I have no idea why I want to go there so much, when after five years of not setting foot inside that old house, it didn't even bother me, so why was I so hell bent into going there this summer?
Maybe it's because of how much I miss my grandmother, and how her home-cooked meals can send me inside this magnificently staggering state. Yes, that might be the case, and the bouquet of roses she sent to congratulate me for graduating high school has put me into a frenzy.
I want, no, I need to go back there.
I have to.
I received the roses a week ago. They were crimson red, almost like the color of blood, and it seemed like the petals have so much life in them. It has a rich scent to it and I immediately know that those roses are from her garden. The same roses she forbade me to touch, the same roses on that same spot where she warned me never to go again.
I have put it in a large vase filled with water, and noticed something odd about it. Yes, I get the roses a week ago, yet it stood there inside my room looking as fresh as the day I received them. It was questionable how those flowers don't wilt, and how its scent is as strong as the first day I got them. I tried studying the flowers, peeling off one of the petals. It wasn't fake.
The first night those roses were in my room, I started having dreams. I saw images of myself as a young child, and how much time I spent inside one particular room. I saw myself looking outside the large window, and how I can see the view of the same roses I've received. I get that dream over and over every single night. But the reason why I'm currently sitting inside this crowded train heading for Jinhae. The reason why I'm so eager to come back to that big old house, is because of the same dream I kept getting every night, and how all of a sudden, a voice started to linger inside my head. It came off as a whisper at first and it was hardly audible, but as I hear those words inside my dream over and over again, I can hear clearly how deep the voice is and how strong each word was spoken.
It was a voice of a man.
It sounds so familiar, yet so foreign at the same time.
"Come back to me Eunji. Come back to me and fulfill our promise."
Those were the words he said. So here I am now, and as the train stops at Gyeonghwa Station, I stare outside the window. As if on cue, the petals of the cherry blossom tree start to fall, just like it does every spring. It was beautiful, it was mesmerizing, yet it was unusual. It's the beginning of summer, yet there were petals falling, gracing me with their remarkable beauty. It's like I'm being welcomed back to the place, and I feel an overwhelming sense of familiarity tugging at my chest. I am not the only one who is puzzled by this, even the old lady beside me is surprised. She told me that it was a sign, a sign for which something either good or bad is about to happen. I kept that in mind and even after I left the train, with my left hand grasping my luggage, I walked the extra mile with a heavy feeling in my chest. My conscience is whispering to me, telling me to run away, forcing me to leave and never return to this place, but my feet kept on moving. When I see the view of that same old house, I step back a little, asking myself if this is the right thing to do.
Suddenly, I feel a burst of wind playing with my hair, and the hem of my red pleated skirt dances with the wind, sending shivers down my spine. It's a hot day on a summer, yet I feel so cold and chilly. I start walking again, wanting so much to feel the warmth of the house in front of me. There is no one outside, so I figured grandma must be inside waiting for me. I grab and turn the door knob, finding that it isn't locked and when I enter the house, I'm embraced with the feeling of nostalgia. Closing the door, I look around the house. The sight made me smile as I walked around and called for the old lady that resides the place.
"Grandma, I'm home!"
Yet no one spoke back to me. I call her again, and this time, I hear a familiar voice talking to me. He was so close, so close that I could feel his breath against my ear.
"Welcome back, Eunji."
When I heard that voice, I couldn't talk, and I couldn't move. I can feel his presence, and it is so achingly familiar.
"We're gonna have so much fun together."
He whispered against my ear.
"Just like we always do."
And with that, another burst of wind swirls around the room, playing with the white curtains that are hanged just above the window sill. I can tell he isn't there anymore, for I can no longer feel his presence. A shiver ran down my spine. I didn't notice that my grandmother is walking towards me, nor did I see her arms outstretched, with a kind smile plastered on her face. She lungs towards my panicked state, and greeted me with her welcoming embrace.
It was odd. Instead of feeling the warmth of her embrace, all I can sense is this heavy feeling of dread, and the words the old lady I met on the train start to linger inside my head. I know something bad is about to happen, and I need to get out of this place and salvage myself.
I have to get out of here.