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death
It's a raining night. The fog set in earlier than usual, but she hadn't noticed anyway; she was working late, as always. The club was full, the drinks were in high demand, and the foreigners were trickling in amongst the domestic newcomers. This meant tips, and the staff all knew it. Her shift had ended at midnight, but she hadn't left until 2. The extra two hours had been unpaid, but the extra cash those extra hours saw slipped into her palms from drunken patrons made them much more profitable than just trickling home to Eunjin to tuck her into bed.
When she'd finally teetered out with the bone-shaking music locked firmly beyond the doors as they closed behind her, it was with fistfuls of cash stuffed into her purse, and the thought of Eunjin's face lighting up when she'd inform her that tomorrow, she'd be picking her up from school for chicken and soda.
Maybe it's irresponsible of her to leave her child alone for such long hours, to tuck herself into bed, to make her own meals, to walk herself back from school after a long day... But this is what the life of a single mother is like. She makes sacrifices every day, and flitting through the bills in her handbag makes it seem worth it. Eunjin will understand when she's a little older.
Out on the street, it's colder than she was expecting, and she hugs her jacket tight to her body, jogging across the street with her heels clicking on the stone and her skirt threatening to slink up her body with each step. The street is wet, and the flats of her soles splash each time she lands.
Click goes her heel, splash goes her sole. With that and the thought of her extra cash, she stops to pull the strings of her hair out of her face, wiping her undereyes to stop the running of her mascara. Before she heads home, she could stop in to see that ahjussi, and maybe get a little something nice for herself for working so hard.
She doesn't hear the car over the sound of the rain, and doesn't see its headlights through the thick fog until it's too late. She doesn't notice it at all, not until it hits her in the knees, and her head cracks against the pavement. If it weren't for the way its tailights lit up the wet asphault, she'd almost think she was run down by some kind of monster. That it toppled her, stomped on her fragile body, and lit her on fire afterwards.
All over, every part of her burns. She knows the road must be freezing, she knows she should be feeling disgusted by the way the rain soaks into her dress, but she can't feel it. She only feels fire; her whole body is alight. When she moves to sit up and check the damage, it isn't so much with a cry of pain, but a whimper- she can't so much as move her head without agony erupting down her back- the worst pain she's ever experienced in her life. She closes her eyes to sob, tries to move her hands to rub her makeup from her face, but finds she can't move those either, and sobs harder.
It's a crunch that brings her weakly back to reality, and with her face against the pavement, she can make out the soles of white shoes in front of her. Strangely dry in this weather, but it's hard to tell whether it's even raining anymore; her eyes can't seem to focus.
She mumbles out a weak help with a throat that feels impossibly dry, feels the scratch of the asphalt against her cheek.
"There's no point in helping you. Your name's been on my list for weeks. You were supposed to fall into traffic after twisting your ankle last week."
"I have a family-"
"Forget it. You won't see them again."
"Save me."
"It's too late for you. Let go."
She doesn't want to. She sobs into the street instead, fights to keep her eyes open.
When she'd finally teetered out with the bone-shaking music locked firmly beyond the doors as they closed behind her, it was with fistfuls of cash stuffed into her purse, and the thought of Eunjin's face lighting up when she'd inform her that tomorrow, she'd be picking her up from school for chicken and soda.
Maybe it's irresponsible of her to leave her child alone for such long hours, to tuck herself into bed, to make her own meals, to walk herself back from school after a long day... But this is what the life of a single mother is like. She makes sacrifices every day, and flitting through the bills in her handbag makes it seem worth it. Eunjin will understand when she's a little older.
Out on the street, it's colder than she was expecting, and she hugs her jacket tight to her body, jogging across the street with her heels clicking on the stone and her skirt threatening to slink up her body with each step. The street is wet, and the flats of her soles splash each time she lands.
Click goes her heel, splash goes her sole. With that and the thought of her extra cash, she stops to pull the strings of her hair out of her face, wiping her undereyes to stop the running of her mascara. Before she heads home, she could stop in to see that ahjussi, and maybe get a little something nice for herself for working so hard.
She doesn't hear the car over the sound of the rain, and doesn't see its headlights through the thick fog until it's too late. She doesn't notice it at all, not until it hits her in the knees, and her head cracks against the pavement. If it weren't for the way its tailights lit up the wet asphault, she'd almost think she was run down by some kind of monster. That it toppled her, stomped on her fragile body, and lit her on fire afterwards.
All over, every part of her burns. She knows the road must be freezing, she knows she should be feeling disgusted by the way the rain soaks into her dress, but she can't feel it. She only feels fire; her whole body is alight. When she moves to sit up and check the damage, it isn't so much with a cry of pain, but a whimper- she can't so much as move her head without agony erupting down her back- the worst pain she's ever experienced in her life. She closes her eyes to sob, tries to move her hands to rub her makeup from her face, but finds she can't move those either, and sobs harder.
It's a crunch that brings her weakly back to reality, and with her face against the pavement, she can make out the soles of white shoes in front of her. Strangely dry in this weather, but it's hard to tell whether it's even raining anymore; her eyes can't seem to focus.
She mumbles out a weak help with a throat that feels impossibly dry, feels the scratch of the asphalt against her cheek.
"There's no point in helping you. Your name's been on my list for weeks. You were supposed to fall into traffic after twisting your ankle last week."
"I have a family-"
"Forget it. You won't see them again."
"Save me."
"It's too late for you. Let go."
She doesn't want to. She sobs into the street instead, fights to keep her eyes open.