YEAR 2000
For fifteen years, I raised Iseul inside our house. She was restricted from going outside, despite her big curiosity as a kid. I protected her at all costs because it's dangerous outside after all the things that we faced. All of those... just for Iseul to witness how her father was killed in our home and because of her own art.
Even for the last time, Adwin protected our daughter. All this time, it was him who was protecting Iseul the most. He protected her hopes, dreams, and childhood. I would always get mad at him for letting Iseul go outside. It turns out, maybe he's just protecting Iseul from me.
"Where are you taking my papa?"
Iseul was about to approach them, but an officer pointed his gun at my daughter's forehead. I instantly sprinted towards her.
"She's a kid!" I cried.
He moved his gun away. "Then shut the fuck up if you two don't want to end up like him," he said, pointing at Adwin.
"Where are you taking my husband?" I shrieked.
"We'll burn him to ashes. That's what happens when someone breaks the rules. It must have been difficult for him to understand that." I was about to speak again, but he pointed his gun, making me stop.
"Vaffanculo!" Iseul was glaring at them with her hands gripped. "Vai all'inferno!" She was cursing at them. But they were already moving away.
I fell on my knees and wept. "No..."
Everything suddenly sank inside my head. Adwin has been shot again, but this time, he's gone. I've got nobody now. What am I going to do, Adwin? I chose to live here because of you. I wanted to live here because you brought... color to my life!
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I only made your life dull, even for the last time." I shed so many tears. "Adwin!" I was screaming and calling for his name. But nobody came to hug me; nobody came to kiss my forehead.
We were not even allowed to have his proper burial; the officers took his body with them. They treated us like animals again. My ears kept ringing, and I cried so hard as I remembered that this happened before, with a similar gunshot. The night when my husband's hand was shot... I remember it clearly now.
I bawled my eyeballs even more. "How could this happen to us, Adwin?" I sobbed.
When I was almost out of breath after crying for more than an hour, I looked around. I remembered that I'm not alone. I also had... I also have a daughter with me!
"Iseul!" I called her. I stood up from the ground and went to the garden. She's on her knees, with paintings around. It broke my heart to see her shredding all of the papers into pieces.
"Iseul, I'm sorry." I cried and hugged her tightly. She was about to tear another painting, but I held her arms to stop her. "Don't ruin your art. It's beautiful. That's what your Papa used to do. It's okay, it's okay, amore."
I felt her whole body shaking. My poor Iseul. I was crying the whole time because I forgot about her. I forgot that she was a kid who just saw something that I never wanted her to see.
"I killed Papa."
My hands felt so weak that I had to let go of her arms. I kneeled in front of her and held her hands. We were both breathing heavily, and she was looking down again.
"No, Iseul. It's not your fault. Please, believe your mamma."
She shook her head. "I killed Papa. I made paints and painted. Papa said these were his paintings; that's why they shot him. It should have been me, Mamma. They should have shot me instead. I'm sorry, Mamma, I'm sorry you're left with me. I'm so so sorry."
I wrapped my arms around her neck and cried on her shoulders. "I never told you that painting is not allowed here. It's not your fault, Iseul. I'm sorry you had to witness a horrible thing. Mamma's here, okay? We will live for Papa. Don't blame yourself."
We spent the following days grieving. I had to be strong for my daughter. I had to show her that everything was going to be alright. But there was no day that I never longed for Adwin. Guilt and fear consumed my mind as I thought of him. But somehow, Iseul gave me hope.
Weeks after his death, I started to work again. I would always bring Iseul with me so she can see what it's like outside our home unlike before.
"I feel safer here," Iseul said once while harvesting crops.
She felt safer when she was outside. This time, I was happy to hear that she feels safe because I had no place to consider safe anymore.
Time healed us, but the past still haunts me. When Iseul turned 18, she only wished for one thing on her birthday.
"Mamma, I want to be a painter."
On the exact day of her birthday, we had a major fight. A conflict that was the start of how a wall was built between us again.
"Are you out of your mind?"
"I want to be a painter, Mamma. When I was a kid, I promised Papa that I would be like him once I turned 18." She sounded determined.
"Haven't you forgotten what happened because of your painting? Your painting killed your father! Why do you want to be a painter? Do you want to kill me too?" I covered my mouth when I realized what I just said.
"You said it wasn't my fault," she glared at me. "That makes me a bad daughter then. Well, I have always been a bad daughter for dreaming ever since!" she cried.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. Iseul-"
What should I do, Adwin?
"I will be a painter, and if I die because of art, then I deserve it!"
We rarely talked after her eighteenth birthday. We never apologized to each other. The house never felt the same; I just go home to eat and sleep, then go back to work. I had nobody to lean on, and it was all my fault. I still kept worrying about Iseul, but she chose to work for herself alone.
YEAR 2005
I had a love-hate relationship with my daughter. She grew up as a fierce woman who stood up for herself. I was also like that before, but she's more courageous than I was. She fights whenever she believes she's right. An independent and dedicated woman—that's how I saw Iseul.
She is now twenty, but I never had the chance to tell her that I felt proud of her. Because at the end of the day, I will only see something that I hate about her. And it is her dream to become an artist. I thought I could support her after my husband's death, but fear swallowed me whole.
I can't support her, but I can't stop her either. I knew this day would come, and I will let her do what she wants out of guilt.
"I'm leaving."
After a month of not speaking to each other, Iseul went home just to tell me that she's going far away.
"Where are you going? Are you planning to do something stupid again?"
I glared at her. She ignored me and went straight to her room, packing her things. I stood at the doorway and watched her.
"I'm going to be a painter, Idiot," she said.
I slammed the door. "What are you up to?"
"I'm going to the North, and I'm going to paint. I'm going to be a painter like Dad and nothing's going to stop me!"