Iseul did what she wanted and left the East. I'm not entirely sure if she's doing well because for two years, I never heard of her. I never said a word, but I trusted her. I believed she was just there, chasing her dreams.
Although it would have been better if I had someone beside me, I can't even blame her for wanting to leave. She had no life when she was with me. The only thing that I kept blaming was art and myself.
YEAR 2007
"Sei qui? Mamma! Are you here? Open this damn door."
I just choked on my coffee. Someone's outside the house, and my guts have already told me that Iseul's here. She's back. That bitch!
"Sorpresa!" she smiled widely as I opened the door.
I looked at her hand; she was holding a canvas. I haven't seen one like this for a long time.
"What's that?" I asked, frowning.
"A painting, duh! Aspetto!" She showed me what she painted, and I gasped. It was a portrait of Adwin... she crafted a portrait of her father?
"I barely remembered Papa's features, and this is what I managed to paint." she shrugged. I cut her off and hugged her. I buried my face on her shoulders and sobbed.
"Hey, stop being so cheesy, old hag!" she laughed and hugged me back. "Stop it; that's so pretentious of you. I know you want to slap the shit out of me."
I grabbed her hair and slightly pulled it. "You brat. I'm still your mother!"
We spent the whole day catching up with each other. It's been a long time since I had someone to talk to inside our house. I admit, I missed Iseul and every good and bad thing that happens whenever we talk.
"They didn't know who I was, so it was easy for me to blend in with them. I attended an art workshop where I learned how to paint for a year. Then I started working as a painter, Mamma! They paid me a loooot!" she exclaimed and rested her head on our sofa. When it's about art, she really sounded like the happiest person on Techne Island.
"They didn't suspect you a bit?" I asked, placing another cup of tea on the table for her.
"Si, I told you, I blended well with them. They said my artwork looks amazing and unique, like a painting of someone who was born in the North," she said, rolling her eyes. "Where was I? Oh, I attended a workshop of a kind man named Howard Brent. There were so many students! Out of all the artists that I met, I think Howard Brent is the most approachable one."
"How much do workshops in the North cost?" I remembered Adwin attending those types of activities, and he paid a lot. But it was worth it, he was able to hone his skills.
"You're not going to believe this; Brent does his workshop for free! I paid nothing, then gained more skills. It's so cool!" She giggled. Who knew artists like that existed?
"Have you gained friends?" I asked. I've been thinking about it a lot.
Knowing Iseul, it was hard for her to trust people because of what happened to her papa. She's outgoing and free, but she's an excellent observer. To be honest, Iseul is afraid of letting people into her life because she's afraid to lose them. Just like how I chose to live alone rather than find new people to spend my time with.
"Nari."
I gasped when she responded with a name. "Nari?"
"Remember the name, Mamma. Nari. As soon as I arrived in the North, I went to a Korean restaurant and then met her. She's actually the owner, and then she sat with me on the table, sharing things about her home country," she snorted. "I accidentally told her that I'm from the East on my first day there! But she never made me worry and told me to trust her."
I grinned. "That's great to hear. She sounds nice; don't you want to marry her?"
"Mamma, she's married, and she has kids!" she blurted out. She gestured for me to stop talking and even clapped her hands. "But that's not all, Mamma! I would always go to their restaurant, and she would always teach me hangul, which is their writing system, and their Korean language!"
"Really? Like what?" I asked excitedly.
"Shibal!"
"What does that mean?"
"Fuck you!" She laughed so hard that she was holding her stomach. I glared at her.
"Oh, oh, I have another phrase to say," she said, catching her breath from laughing.
"Tch, what is it?"
"Saranghae, Eomma," she scrunched her nose. "Bogoshipda, mianhe."
"What does that mean? That I'm a stupid old hag?" I scowled.
"It means I love you, Mamma. I missed you, and I'm sorry."
I stood up and walked to the kitchen. "You're the cheesy one here, crazy bitch." I heard her laugh from behind.
I held on to the kitchen sink and covered my mouth as I cried in silence. Iseul, you little brat! I was so cruel to you when you were young; I never imagined she'd tell me kind words like those. I missed my daughter so much.
"Someone's crying," she teased, and she sat on the dining table. Swaying her feet just like she used to do when she was little.
"I'm not crying; I'm going to cook dinner," I reasoned out.
"Yeah, yeah, if you say so."
I cooked dinner while she was watching me. When was the last time she did something like this? Maybe I took for granted the moments when she was still with me. I missed those moments. How selfish of me.
"You should hide that painting somewhere far away," Iseul said as I held the portrait that she gave me.
"I'm going to place this painting outside our house," I joked.
"Tch, you're crazy. Place it somewhere else!" she said angrily, which made me laugh. I ended up placing Adwin's portrait inside a wooden box and decided to bury it in our garden.
"Hey, I painted that, you know?" Iseul said while watching me bury the box. "Why are you doing that?"
"Adwin never had a proper burial." I smiled bitterly. "Hiding his portrait here will keep it safe. The officials are getting stricter each day; they even go inside houses just to search for painters."
"They never change," Iseul hissed.