Hyungoh followed behind his mother. Their hands were clasped together affectionately. As they advanced against the fierce wind, strangely, his steps felt light.
Yes, he felt unburdened. Like the moment after a heavy load has been lifted.
Where was their destination? Looking back at his mother smiling brightly, Hyungoh also smiled gently in response. Where was the end of this path?
The end…
Hyungoh’s steps gradually slowed. The end of this path… The smile that had been maintained on Hyungoh’s face began to twitch.
No, was there even an end?
His mother stopped. Her slender arm remained connected to Hyungoh, who stood frozen behind her, like a thread.
She looked around as if taking in the scenery. It was a very old, worn-out bridge with no cars or people. Without even streetlights, looking down at the river beneath the bridge, it was as dark as an endless cliff.
His mother, precariously perched on the railing that came up to her waist, held both of Hyungoh’s hands. As he tried to move closer, afraid she might fall, she firmly shook her head.
Unable to do otherwise, Hyungoh gripped her hands even tighter. They were indeed warm. Unlike Hyungoh’s cold, rough hands. As he rubbed his face against her hands, feeling a sense of stability, the silver ring on her ring finger bothered him.
It was a twisted ring, like a rope coiled multiple times. Thinking for a moment about its familiar shape, it was identical to his father’s.
Father. Hyungoh buried his face in his mother’s hands, as if avoiding the emerging memories.
“I killed father,” Hyungoh said.
“Do you regret it?” His mother caressed his face. At her question, asked as if it were trivial, Hyungoh hesitated.
“Do you still pity him?”
As if anticipating Hyungoh’s silence, his mother immediately asked another question. Hyungoh recalled his father. A man who desperately hated loneliness. A man who tried hard to be loved even by the young Hyungoh, who was barely half his height. A man who endlessly longed for his mother like an abandoned child.
What else was there? Hyungoh racked his brain. A man who pitied himself? A man who was only satisfied when others were as miserable as he was? A man who used others’ sympathy to fulfill his own desires?
Hyungoh was at a loss for words. His eyes, seeking help, turned toward his mother. She smiled as if she had anticipated this too.
“Why do you think I had this engraved?”
His mother twisted her body slightly as if to show her back. As she lost her balance and staggered, a startled Hyungoh pulled her toward him. “You have it too, you know,” she said with a laugh. “He engraved it on your back, following me.” As his mother continued to move her body precariously, Hyungoh hurriedly nodded.
“Everyone thinks of similar things when they hear ‘angel’,” she said. “A being who is kind, obedient, and knows how to put others before themselves.”
“But angels aren’t kind. They’re not bound by the morals and ethics defined by others. They simply flap their modest wings and soar freely.”
“That’s what I wanted to become.”
His mother soon fell silent. Her voice was tinged with lingering attachment. But Hyungoh couldn’t understand. Angels and wings, weren’t these fictional stories? Reading his expression, she spoke. “All I have left now are thorns. It’s like pointing knives at my surroundings.”
“I don’t understand,” Hyungoh responded, seemingly troubled. “What are you saying?”
“Wings are given only to those who have suffered enough.” His mother placed her finger on the corner of his mouth. “You have to be distorted by trials and hardships. To the point where you collapse and your form becomes unrecognizable.”
“So, Hyungoh,” she called to him, as if to comfort the terrified Hyungoh.
“Now it’s your turn to pierce me with your thorns.”
Hyungoh blinked as if he had just woken up. He thought of two hedgehogs. They couldn’t separate, stuck on each other’s thorns. Hyungoh shook his head vigorously.
“No.”
“I don’t want to hurt anyone.” Hyungoh desperately pulled at his mother’s hand. Her upper body was increasingly tilting beyond the railing.
“Hyungoh.”
“No, don’t do this.” Hyungoh gritted his teeth. Following her weight, Hyungoh also started to tilt.
“Hyungoh.”
Hyungoh wanted to cover his ears with both hands. Her voice calling him was extremely irritating.
“Hyungoh.”
Her calls became an invisible thread binding Hyungoh. “Mother, please.”
“Please don’t call me anymore, mother.”
At Hyungoh’s desperate cry, she gave a gentle smile and whispered softly.
“Give me your pain and fear.”
She softly stroked both of Hyungoh’s cheeks. “Throw away all the memories you have. I’ll take them all.”
“I promise.” His mother kissed Hyungoh on the lips. “My son.”
“May your end be even more beautiful.”
She let go of Hyungoh’s hand. Her legs, which had been hanging over the railing, weakened lifelessly. It happened in an instant. There wasn’t even time to reach out. His mother disappeared just like that.
“Mother.”
Hyungoh, forcing his stiffened legs to move, placed his hands on the railing. He looked down into the cool darkness. It was quiet. Not even the splash of a person falling into water could be heard. It was as if she had been silently devoured by a monster living in the darkness.
It would have been better if that had been the case. Hyungoh barely leaned against the railing and slid down. Sitting on the ground, everything felt distant.
First his father, and now his mother.
They mocked Hyungoh, who was left alone, by disappearing forever from this world.
