Chapter 13.2

Chapter 13.2

Yeon-ha’s uncle launched into another rant.

“I mean, you should have contacted Aunt first. Why come to me? You know our situation isn’t great either…”

Her head throbbed with disbelief. The last thing she wanted was for her sick grandmother to hear such selfish complaints. It broke her heart to think her grandmother reached out for help only to be met with such indifference. The helplessness gnawed at Yeon-ha.

With the reluctant help of some relatives, they managed to start the treatment. The hospital was moved to Seoul, where her younger grandaunt, significantly younger than her grandmother, offered her support.

During the first round of chemotherapy, they decided to stay at her grandaunt’s house. Yeon-ha commuted to Seoul for her grandmother’s treatment, sometimes staying overnight and other times taking the late bus home.

Naturally, college entrance exams became the least of her concerns. She lived each day with a heart full of desperation.

One night, exhausted, she returned home late and ran into him again. The man, who had just come back from the store, was carrying a black plastic bag with a few soju bottles sticking out. Normally, Yeon-ha would have been startled, but she was too drained to notice anything. She brushed past him and climbed the stairs with empty eyes, oblivious to his gaze following her.

Please.

She prayed with all her might, but tragically, even those moments of prayer were fleeting.

In the summer of her twentieth year, just three months before the college entrance exams, her grandmother passed away quietly in her sleep, after receiving her last painkiller.

They had just completed the first round of chemotherapy and were preparing for the next. It was far sooner than the doctor had cautiously predicted.

“What will my baby do without me…? I have to try, whether it works or not. What will happen to my poor Yeon-ha if I’m gone too…”

The image of her grandmother, accepting the grueling treatment, was seared painfully into Yeon-ha’s heart. Her grandmother, fighting to live for Yeon-ha’s sake, whispering that she had to hold on a little longer, shedding tears in secret. And Yeon-ha, unable to give her peace in her final moments.

Her grandmother, even as she passed, could not rest easy because of her. There was no choice, really. Though circumstances can differ, to Yeon-ha, life-prolonging treatment now seemed utterly pointless.

In hindsight, her decision was a grave mistake.

She wished she had allowed her grandmother to spend her remaining days in comfort, even if it was just for a day. To let her rest after a lifetime of hardship. Instead, her grandmother had passed away in a cold hospital room, pumped full of strong painkillers.

“I’m sorry, dear. Grandma is so sorry.”

“I should have stayed to see you go to college, to see you get married. I should have been there for you.”

Her grandmother had said this, caressing Yeon-ha’s hand, just before starting chemotherapy. Yeon-ha had dared to hope for an impossible future then.

It was all in vain, utterly futile.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m so sorry, my dear.”

The night before, her grandmother fell into a deep sleep from which she wouldn’t wake, she had murmured her apologies in a faint voice. Yeon-ha never imagined those would be her last words.

Like all farewells, there was no time to prepare. As Yeon-ha stood dazed, the funeral arrangements proceeded. The days passed in a blur, with few memories to cling to. Her uncle, smiling as he offered her a place to stay, unfamiliar faces casting pitying glances, someone mentioning her absentee “mother” who didn’t even show up at the funeral.

These fragmented scenes were all that drifted through her murky recollections.

She hadn’t even begun to repay her grandmother for all the sacrifices, and now, she was gone in an instant. The deep-seated anger, sorrow, and bouts of depression that had occasionally tormented Yeon-ha vanished, leaving only a hollow sense of loss.

The foundation of her world was gone. The person who had kept her standing strong was no more, leaving behind an all-consuming emptiness.

Yet, the harsh reality did not allow time to grieve. Returning to school just as the second semester began, Yeon-ha felt an overwhelming sense of isolation and bewilderment.

“Why am I here?”

What was the point of it all?

Every action she took felt meaningless. Not just attending classes, but even the simple acts of eating and sleeping seemed devoid of purpose.