RE: Keep it in the Family (Secret Class)-115 — An Immoral Mother III (Conclusion)
Eun Ha's POV:
Eun Ha had a dream, her own form of nirvana, in a world devoid of rules. Of limits. Darkness was all-consuming, until it wasn't.
An imagined fingertip touched her chin, raised her head.
"Your name?" A silky-smooth voice. So commanding and self-assured, a quality that sent chills running down Eun Ha's spine, as if there was no other man for her but him. Absolutely
crazy
. "What's your name?"
She couldn't see the man in front of her. Only a vague silhouette swathed in darkness. An outline she couldn't see, but she knew it was there, right in front of her. Dreams didn't make sense. They didn't follow rules. The whole purpose was to be illogical, to evade rationality.
But he felt real.
And Eun Ha, even in the absurdity of it all, sensed the dream's fragile seam. Some distant corner of her mind whispered this can't be.
But it was hard to refute reality, because even in a dream, she was a prisoner of her own mind.
And yet, that nagging sensation of incongruence dissolved the instant his unseen thumb brushed the hollow beneath her lip.
Ah.
"My... name is Eun Ha." Eun Ha muttered, almost instinctively, out of reflex, and probably because she knew she couldn't lie to him in this dreamscape of hers. "Who are you?"
"......"
The phantom finger cupped her entire jaw. His grasp was light, a bare brush of knuckles, but the gentle caress made her breath catch in her throat.
She swallowed. Felt the strain of muscles flexed as he brought their faces closer together. She could almost feel the man's breath against her. "In here, there is no such thing as limits or rules. Your desires will always be listened to, and your wants will come true. You want to know who I am? Come with me..."
And then, as if that was some form of signal, one by one, lights gradually flared into being, creating an illuminated, straight path ahead. Except that the being leading her onward was still shrouded in a perpetual veneer of shadows, blurry around the edges. He was moving, though, his presence guiding Eun Ha through the bright space, walking forward slowly, but surely.
Eun Ha drank in her surroundings. Belatedly, she realized they were in a corridor of sorts, surrounded by doors, of all different shapes and sizes, and colours. It was, or seemed to be, a narrow passageway with no beginning or end, only doors on the right or on the left, and no distinguishing markings on any of them to hint as to what exactly might be behind them.
But the man with her didn't stop at any of those doors. Rather, he continued to guide her along, the pace easy and steady. And she followed along. She could've stopped, she felt like. The man's grip wasn't tight enough to fully restrain her.
Eun Ha's bare feet stuck to the cold floor. The hallway stretched.
She passed a brown door on the left. Laughter leaked out—light, easy. A man's voice, kind. '
Just knock
', it whispered. He'd love you right.
A green door on the right. Coffee and rain. She could faintly smell it on the tip of her nose. '
Here...
' Someone was waiting with open arms, no lies, no late nights away.
Past blue—sunsets over wine and poetry. A man of high intellect and integrity. To purple—cigarette smoke and sex, the slithering silk of skin on skin. An adventorous one, that door.
Everything was so enticing. The options seemed endless, a beautiful selection for the woman who yearned for that perfect match, someone to make her complete. Any door could open. Any life could be hers. She only had to reach.
And yet the phantom continued onward, untroubled, as if he was immune to the whispers and pleas. And so was she.
They walked past another door. Old wood, half-rotted. A crack showed fog inside, gray and thick. A woman's moan. His grunt. The stink of betrayal. Eun Ha turned her face away. The door didn't call. It only sagged, ashamed.
They were running out of options. The choices, the variety, the appeal—all disappeared as the distance grew and their choices reduced, until there was only one door remaining.
The hallway ended.
One door left.
Black. Tall. Red light bleeding from the seams like fresh wounds. It was exactly the kind of door any sensible woman would have wanted to avoid.
And yet, that was precisely the one the figure stopped in front of.
She took one step forward. And another.
Red spilled over her ankles. Dripped from the doorframe like blood.
She did not want to step across that threshold.
Didn't want to enter the room.
"W-What..."
The shadow turned.
Slowly. Too slowly.
The darkness peeled away like wet cloth.
First the slope of a shoulder. Then the line of a jaw. A high cheekbone she had kissed when he had fever at seven. The same mouth that once asked for extra pancakes.
Jae-il.
Fifteen. Barefoot in the red glow. Eyes older than they should be.
He smiled. Small. Knowing. Gently.
"Mom."
His voice cracked on the word, then steadied.
"You walked all this way." The corner of his mouth hooked upward. His gaze traced her hair. Ran down her face. Lingered on her lips. "It must have been so hard, not taking any of their offers. Most people would have."
This isn't real, she told herself. Not a single drop of this can possibly be real. "J-Jae-il..."
"They will die one day. They always die one day. They may be good for a little while, or years even. Or you might marry a great man, with an empire that you shape, or children who take care of you when you're old. But we're the only constant you'll ever have. I'm the only constant you'll ever have. Not a single choice can last forever. Except me." His voice turned ghostly, ringing from one ear to the other. "
I won't ever leave you. If you choose me, if you come in and take the single path I'm giving you, then you'll have me for eternity. I won't hurt you like he did.
"
Tears prickled her eyes, a scalding sting she couldn't blink away. Even in this fuzzy reality, every part of her hurt.
She opened her eyes and watched her dream Jae-Il sigh, long, deep.
"
What do you fear?
" He whispered, lifting a hand that slipped under the smooth arch of her brow and gently wiped the tear falling onto her cheek. He was warm. Why was it warm? Why could she feel it?
This wasn't a dream, Eun Ha's body seemed to say as it reacted to him.
"
Which are you afraid of?
"
When she didn't answer, her son merely hummed a little. "
Your happiness or mine?
"
Her mouth parted. Nothing came out, until he prompted her again, but she somehow managed to ebb forth the words.
"Y-Your..."
Jae-il frowned a little, brows drawing down. His thumb paused, but he quickly collected himself as the coldness bled from his gaze and his features softened. She watched him blink, long and slow, and she swore he seemed so close. "
My happiness...?
"
"... Yes." She sniffled a little. She saw the tension leave Jae-Il's expression and watched a faint curve stretch his lips, making his features seem... lighter. Calmer. Gentler. "This is wrong, Jae-il. Please..."
She tried to back away.
One step.
Then another.
He merely stared at her.
"
For how long? How much longer can you bear it?
" Jae-il slowly lowered his hand. His shoulders tensed the slightest bit and a smile curled his mouth—one she'd seen far too often lately. "
You can run all you want, mom. You can try to open other doors if that'll help you cope. You can spend your whole life hunting for the one where he loves you back, or the one where he isn't lying in bed with someone else at night, a person who makes him moan louder than you, or makes him come harder than he ever would with you, where all the problems you two went through just melted away. The problem is... no door can offer you that.
"
She didn't bother wiping the tears sliding down her cheeks, or the one Jae-Il, on a reflex, wiped away with his thumb.
"
Come in, mom
." He extended his hand to her, with a smile full of warmth, but that carried such deep sorrow it was almost painful to watch. "
This is the door you, deep down, really want to open
."
Eun Ha stared at his hand.
Small. Familiar. The same fingers that once clutched hers crossing the street.
Now open. Waiting.
Her own hand lifted an inch, then froze.
"I can't." She rasped, and her voice cracked like thin ice.
Jae-il didn't move. Just watched. Red light slid over his cheekbones, painted the hollow beneath his eyes. Purple eyes. Same as hers.
"
You already did.
" He said, softly. "
You walked past every safe door. You're here.
"
"I CAN'T!"
And then she bolted away, ran away, as fast as she could. Like a scared animal that didn't want to get trapped in a snare. She moved forward blindly, muttering '
I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't...
' with each step.
There was no direction or hope anymore. She had nothing but the strange reality of the situation and its uniqueness. And she couldn't know whether it was real, or a product of her imagination. She only knew she wanted to get away.
Away from him.
From this darkness.
"
You can run, mom. I'd never trap you in here. But if that's what makes you comfortable then go ahead...
" He murmured, his voice fainter as the distance between them stretched. Or so she thought. From the corner of her eyes, she could see a purple wisp hovering around her, always following, no matter how fast she ran. "
When the time comes, when the illusion of choice fades and reality makes its ugly face known, remember I was patient. That I still will be patient. That door will always be waiting. Just as I will always be waiting. Just like you will be, as you inevitably come crawling back, seeking comfort and a solution, a quick relief to whatever plagues you now. Everyday, with a broken mind, a broken family. Running. Always running. But then you'll know. No matter how far or how fast you run, or the lies and fake promises of others you trust and find solace in... that the door was always there. Always...
"
"
Always...
"
"Get the fuck away from me! God!" She spat, as if she'd been slapped, and could barely hold the floodwalls together.
She could feel a sharp buzzing, a high-pitched ringing in her ears, growing louder and louder, until—
Eun Ha gasped.
And woke up.
In bed, soaked and burning.
Her sheets tangled.
Her shirt sticking.
"Hah... Hah..." She looked around. "Wh-"
An electronic beep sounded on the table next to her bed, the alarm clock she always forgot existed, showing it was seven AM. The sun was up, it was a new day and the light through the curtains illuminated the house in a mild white gleam.
She stared at the ceiling, heart still thrumming.
"This was a nightmare." Eun Ha touched her eyes, puffy and damp. The dream had a visceral, physical effect on her. "Just... a bad dream..."
For a few moments, all she did was breathe in and out, letting her pounding heart slowly calm and return to its steady beating. And all that time, her stare didn't move from the same spot.
Because...
That door had a face. Her child's face.
115 — An Immoral Mother III (Conclusion)
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