"Why did they leave me?" I howl through my muffled tears, covering my face with both hands, so desperate to stop this pain that's wracking my body. I cannot find relief as it only builds and grows to levels I can't handle. Immersed in this darkness that's pulling me down.
"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 on my heart. The regret at staying back for that one night, because I was tired and didn't want to spend the 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 lay 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, and my nose runs, and my throat clogs with the sheer volume of them.
"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 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 in 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 in everyday life. These past years he's been my shadow and kept me sane in a society that's often cold and shallow. He's probably the only real friend I have 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 do; I can take care of her, so trust me to do it. 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 in his place as comforter and best friend. I know Yoonah inside out, and he takes pride in the fact that we're inseparable twins at times. 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 fiancée 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 right 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 out 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 with musky perfume and 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 fully envelope me as fresh tears start to fall, and despite never in my life having this woman embrace me this way, 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 and love you and stand in her place, and make her proud and try my very best to be what you need. It's what she would ask of me. I'll stay here a while, and we can say our goodbyes together. I want to say goodbye to them too." She wraps her arms around me tightly, and I try and blot the world out, unaware of Jyeon leaving 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 in 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 to 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 go back to that empty house where my parents will never appear again.