35. Story of Grief

That day is marked forever in my memory. When I came home from school to find Appa standing there solemnly, I knew something was up. I could tell by the redness of his eyes and nose that he'd been crying – a lot.

I still remember the vivid feeling of my heart pounding wildly and disbelief spreading through my body as tears fell like waterfalls down my face after he told me.

It took a few hours for me to recover even a little bit. I had bolted up to my room and felt the rawest emotions I've ever felt to this day. The sheer thought of her never coming back was enough to send me into another fit of tears. Once I had spent enough time alone to ask questions, I went down with the intent of getting them all answered. When they were, I was overcome with a new emotion: rage.

I couldn't help but blame him for my mother's death. I told him he should've been there to protect her.

'You knew about her broken leg and you still left for work! Why did you leave her? How could you?!'

It was the first time I had ever yelled at my father, but I didn't care. The grief overpowered everything else.

I shudder at the horrid memory. Over the years I grew numb to the pain, but when waves of sadness came I welcomed them with open arms.

"You're asking me why I hate being called weak?" I ask with a certain edge to my voice. I hope Jimin catches the hint that I'm not in the mood to talk about it, but when he looks at me expectantly I gear myself for a long explanation ahead. I sigh and readjust on the pavement.

"I told you about how my mother passed away. But I didn't tell you the story behind it." I begin, and I can see a certain interest peak in his eyes while his mouth tightens. I can tell he wants to know about Eomma but doesn't want to pry any more information out of me than I'm willing to say.

"My mother had broken her ankle by falling off the stairs one day, and it was painful for her to walk around. Dad knew this, but decided to leave for work in the thought that she'd be fine on her own." I turn and look at Jimin in the eye. "She was like you. She fought to protect people that couldn't help themselves out of the goodness in her heart."

His hand shifts, and I feel it interlock with mine in a reassuring manner. I continue. "She went grocery shopping that day. Her favorite shop was in a shady area, so it wasn't surprising that she found a bunch of guys taunting a woman." I gulp.

"She managed to get the woman behind her and steal a knife from one of them. That show of strength scared them, and they would have run away. But in that moment, her ankle acted up, and she doubled over. One of them noticed the cast on her leg and kicked it so that she fell to the ground." I screech the last words as the hurt overcomes me. I saw the whole thing in a surveillance camera recording, and it pains me every time I see it in my mind.

Fresh laundry fills every breath I intake as Jimin envelops me in a hug, rubbing my back and muttering soothing words. "You don't have to continue, Kyung Mi. It's okay."

I shake my head and lean back, breaking the hug. "I want you to know." I sniffle. "They beat her up as the woman ran away to call the police and an ambulance. My mom died before she even reached the hospital."

I hear Jimin inhale sharply as he absorbs everything I just told him. "The moment she showed them that they had an advantage over her, they took it. The instant they saw weakness, it was over. My mom serves as an example to me every day to be strong in any situation. That's why whenever someone says I'm weak, I feel as though everything I've done was for nothing. As if my mother died for nothing."

He shakes his head in regret and sadness and hugs me again. I allow my breathing to become even in his comfort.