DS 36

At first, he wasn’t sure what the sound was, but soon he realized it was rain as he heard the wind blew past his ears.

I’m done for.  His heart sank heavily with a thud. It was raining outside.

When it rained, waves would surge in the sea, and the boat would rock dangerously. That’s why fishermen would stay home at times like this, drinking soju with raw fish or taking long naps.

‘What if nobody comes to check the boat because of the rain?’

With his thoughts running rampant from anxiety, Eun-myeong tightly closed his eyes instead. He needed to clear his mind to avoid being consumed by nervousness.

Naturally, strength gathered in his grip. The lighter in his hand was unconsciously clutched tight.

The lighter with its rough surface, feeling like alligator skin. It belonged to that man.

‘Anyway, if you get caught wandering around outside carelessly, expect to get your behind beaten.’

The rough voice pierced Eun-myeong’s eardrum like an awl, stabbing his rigid brain. He should have just listened to the manager. With regret, Eun-myeong scratched the lighter’s surface with his fingertips.

Maybe because he had lit it so many times, but there was a faint warmth that lingered in the lighter.  Eun-myeong curled up, leaning into that faint warmth.

* * *

After who knows how long had passed, it began pouring, more fiercely this time. The sea waves rose higher each time, rumbling. His body felt like it was floating up with surface tension.

“…Ugh.”

Every passing second, every minute felt like eternity. Each moment stabbed Eun-myeong like a harpoon. Without being able to tell time, each instant stretched out like taffy.

He would pound on the door calling for help, then collapse exhausted in a corner, then climb back up the ladder to repeat the same actions when he regained some strength. Finally, completely drained, he stayed crouched for a long while.

He must have drifted off for a while without realizing.

“…Uh.”

When he opened his eyes from unknown pain,  something was sharply piercing his eyes. Sunlight…? When he quickly raised his head, there was  light faintly dripping through the gaps in the door. At the same time, he sensed something’s presence.

‘Had someone finally come?’

Eun-myeong quickly climbed up the ladder. Despite the stinging in his swollen hands he desperately hit the door, trying to get their attention. Pain didn’t matter now.

“There’s someone in here, please help!”

Worried they might not have heard, he pounded again.

“There’s someone in the fish hold!”

But there was no response. Only the hollow sound of his pounding echoed. Had he misheard in his drowsiness? His chest, which had swelled with hope, deflated with disappointment in an instant.

To make matters worse, the loud waves swept over the area. Thunder and lightning had started. The weather seemed unusually temperamental. The typhoon must be the reason why no one had come aboard. 

After days of sunshine, why did such bad luck have to strike now? A sense of misfortune crashed over him, seeming to drive him to his death.

‘Unlucky little bastards.’

The director’s voice echoed again. Hating to hear it, Eun-myeong shook his head violently. He pinched his hand hard, telling himself to get it together.

‘You pieces of trash are not even fit for pork.’

But the voice was hard to ignore, as if coming from heaven itself.

* * *

After that, Eun-myeong climbed the ladder many more times. He tried pounding the door with his fists, banging upward with his elbows, but it was pointless.

Eventually, Eun-myeong gave up. He folded his knees and curled up in a corner, his thoughts unknown. Though he couldn’t see well, his hands felt tattered from all the pounding.

Except for the single beam of light coming from above, the fish hold was completely dark. It felt like being trapped in some cramped place.

Similar to the boiler room, yes, like the boiler room…

Trapped in silence with the darkness, Eun-myeong began to waver from the pessimistic thoughts.

The director would punish children in unseen places, claiming to reform them. But for huge mistakes, he would drag them to the boiler room at the very back of his office and throw them in like crumpling paper.

It was such a small space that it barely fit one person. And it was so dark that nothing could be seen except the light coming through the door crack.

‘Eun-myeong, this is why even your parents abandoned you, because you’re like this.’

‘Teacher, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…’

A place with no signs of life or warmth. It was also the place Eun-myeong feared the most in this world. Though he begged for forgiveness with tears and snot running down his face, the director never once showed an ounce of mercy.

A tiny prison where all freedom was castrated. There, Eun-myeong suffered from hunger and loneliness.

The director would lock up and abandon the children, saying this was their natural life anyway, that orphan bastards were born with nothing, so they should feel the suffering.

One day, two days, sometimes up to three… Occasionally, when the door opened, a little water would come in. They were given just enough water to barely stay alive.

When he came out, Eun-myeong would be dazed for a long time, as if he had lived decades with a child’s face. Once, his Noona had burst into the director’s office to rescue him. Though she was severely punished afterward, she said she was glad to be with him. Of course, Eun-myeong felt the same.

“…”

Now… of course, his Noona couldn’t come. She wouldn’t know he was here. Because he made absolutely sure she wouldn’t know.

With the thought of being completely alone, hallucination-like visions began flickering before his eyes. With darkness enveloping everything, reality and delusion became indistinguishable. It felt like the director might appear any moment with a golf club in hand.

‘Get it together.’ Eun-myeong gripped his knees tightly. He also squeezed the lighter in his hand. 

Scratch, scratch, scratch, he frantically scraped the alligator skin-covered lighter’s surface with his broken nails. He struggled not to lose his mind.

But as his time trapped lengthened and the rain grew stronger, he gradually lost himself to the darkness.

…What if….

What if absolutely no one came, and he ended up suffocating to death? What if the bottom of the boat burst open and his body plunged into the sea…?

Eun-myeong curled up tightly like a pill bug. The darkness ate away at him like termites. It started by grabbing his wrists and ankles, then covered his whole body, pressing down heavily.

“Please save me, I’ll be good… I won’t cry. I’ll eat only a little food.”

Tears streamed down his cheeks. He could barely keep his eyes open anymore. Plus, the floor was ice-cold. At this time of year, the seawater was as cold as ice. The piercingly cold temperature traveled through the boat, freezing Eun-myeong’s body solid like ice.

His narrow jaw trembled. It felt like being submerged naked in ice water. His eyelids were completely swollen, and his eyelashes were stuck together, heavy as lead.

‘No one will help me. I’m an orphan anyway, and stupid, and a cripple, that’s why my parents abandoned me. No one knows I’m here. No one.’

‘I’m going to die like this… Without anyone knowing or caring…’

‘…Ah, but you idiot.’

At the sudden thought, Eun-myeong opened his mouth with an “ah.” 

‘Then what about Noona?’

Maybe his Noona should have abandoned him and fled abroad. He should have been the one stuffing drugs into crab shells. His Noona shouldn’t have done that for herself. She should have abandoned him long ago.

“Stupid bastard…”

Eun-myeong muttered curses under his breath. There was nothing he could do. He couldn’t pay back the debt, couldn’t go to school, couldn’t take his Noona to the hospital, couldn’t put drugs in crab shells instead of her, couldn’t become an omega.

He couldn’t do anything right. And he never would. He would quietly fade from people’s memories.

He felt so sorry for his Noona, wanting to die this instant. If he’d known this would happen, he would have at least written a letter before going to Seoul. Should have told her he was always grateful and sorry. Eun-myeong slowly counted his money in his head. He had about 250,000 won in cash. He should have at least given her that.

Eun-myeong’s deep-rooted branched out endlessly. He curled up like a snake that avoided the predator, trembling. He clenched his fingers. They only stirred the air, grasping nothing.

There was nothing in his hands.