《Memoirs Of An Underground Killer》 The End When you read a story, you think of structure, no? A clear beginning, middle and end. And after that, possibly an epilogue. That''s a story. But in reality, there is afterwards. And for our story, I wanted to ensure there was no ''next''. Thus, I killed him. I killed someone who couldn''t be called human anymore. My husband.
My name is Lee Sookyung. I''m married, and we have a son called Kim Dokja. Today, I couldn''t go to work because of some bruises. It''s hard to lift my arm, and smoke from his cigarette fills the air. This wasn''t how I imagined living in the future. It wasn''t a future I wanted to give to that child. Or maybe I just wanted to avert my eyes to it all. Ah, Dokja-yah. My only son couldn''t run around with other children. I felt bad, so I called out to him in the living room. Rushing over to the table, he barely glanced towards me. His black locks fell towards the fresh book we bought. A simple hobby that was easy to hide. Even from the couch, and the glare from the laptop screen it was visible. His eyes sparkling as he reads. ¡°Mom,I don¡¯t like this prince.¡± Gold light filtered across the curtain, making it harder to get a clear view. There were a few scrawled pages in crayon. Setting the dusty thing aside for a moment, I scooted closer to him. ¡°Why? The important thing isn¡¯t the letters. It¡¯s where they lead you.¡± ¡°You say that all the time, but this one is really different! He¡¯s all twisty with the rose..¡± ¡°He doesn¡¯t understand why she¡¯s sad. Even if they¡¯re special, like the fox said what happens if she¡¯s stuck with a field of roses!¡± ¡°Well...wouldn¡¯t the prince pick her out, anyway?¡± I read the book over a few times, but I never really bothered thinking of it like this. Children were truly curious things. ¡°And if he¡¯s sick and old- will the rose still be tamed by him?¡± He looked at me desperately for an answer. Time passed, and some hours came and went. Eventually, he fell asleep after the story. Usually, we¡¯d read together, but I needed to plan properly these days. Still, how cute. I couldn''t help but whisper. "As long as you read, you''ll surely find something different." I said it often to him. I wanted to find something different than this reality we were in. Debt was piling up because of that useless gambling habit of his,abuse I had to deal with silently like this. I couldn''t go to office with it. I stared at the clock. The living room felt like hell. Really, isn''t it good if someone like that dies? At least, I thought so. If this was a novel, surely he''d get into an accident, we''d hold a funeral no one would care about, send meaningless regards and move on. Because in real life, there is always a next. The next letters would form a sentence, and that sentence seemed endless. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. So, on a lit dinner gripping both fork and knife, I grasped his sore spot. It was a topic that would always come up once or twice. He was rarely home, anyway. "Let''s divorce." "Stupid bitch. Divorce? Do you know where''d this family would be without me?" His guffaw was disgusting. It would''ve been nice to forget his face. To forget the memories he gave me all this time. My neck felt cold and legs like ice. "You aren''t even attractive. At least our Sookyung should have one good thing about her, ah?" I did have good things. We both had good things, back then. "But you only teach those useless fantasies all day." The table shaking due to a little kick, I was familiar with. He flinched, facing his down clearly to the bowl. Dokja was...he was barely 6. I held his hand, but he didn''t dare look up. Trembling, he didn''t dare meet my gaze. Right, today. He read The Little Prince to me. He drew, went on journey, and happened on a desolate planet with only a rose. He thought that rose was special in all the world. Yet, it was only a common flower. But if you tamed it, and it tamed you..yes, we could of have something like a relationship. He drank more alcohol. "Fucking..why''d I get stuck..gloomy bitch-" The harsh scraping of chairs happened at the same time. He moved forward,while I stepped back. "Dokja-yah. Go to your room." "Dokja, Dokja..haha! You only talk to that kid! Never, never to me.." His body was bulging, muscle pooling in his stomach and thighs. Shadows eclipsed any telltale signs of his ¡®fits.¡¯ His shirt was too tight, and his hair was thick unlike mine. Rather than walking, it was a furious stampede. Like a soldier. I thought about it again. Couldn''t I run away like this? If I forgot that child, forget myself and ran away without thinking about anything else? I could live like that. His hands gripped my arms. It stung, and I couldn''t bear it. How long was I going to live like this? I grabbed the knife from the table. It hurt. I raised a battered arm. My bones were cracking. And swung it down again and again. I swung it for my despair. I swung it because I didn''t believe he could be dead. I cut, swung and stabbed deeper for my satisfaction. His squeals slowly cut off. But my anger, my shame didn''t disappear. It couldn''t disappear. Parents like this, a mother like me.. These thoughts wanted more than anything else to see all too clearly. Only cloudy, lifeless, dead eyes. I eventually stood up. My skirt was dirty, and my hair frazzled. I heard a door swing open awhile after that. ¡¸ Dokja. ¡¹ I smiled towards my only son. ¡¸ From now on, I will read all of this again. ¡¹ ¡¸Thus, you have to remember well. Understood? ¡¹ Chapter 2: Marriage Marriage is a communion between two people. You promise to be by each other''s sides, whether in sickness or health. And of course, when things go awry, you can gather yourself, talk to others and leave. If not that, a helpline. A therapist. Society tries to move us like that. Saying that even if you''re in trouble, you''re never alone. I think they''re right on one thing. I''m not alone as long as I have my Dokja. Yes, as long as my son is here, mother can do anything. Today, we were grocery shopping. My husband went to go buy some lettuce and flirt in some other isle. I was used to it, while our child was at school. Come to think of it, the time was getting close for parent¡¯s eve- A sharp laugh woke me up from my plans. An elderly couple approached me that day. Our ¡®neighbours.¡¯ In theory. They were away often, taking trips to places mainly to see their relatives. On that note, I wondered how our sides of the family were doing. Glancing over,I could see a woman a little older than me walking away. In a rather relaxed manner...? Hm. My basket was stopped a little behind me as I picked out strawberries. I didn¡¯t get a good look at the price tag slapped on the transparent plastic, before being distracted again. "Sookyung-ssi! It''s been a long time¡­" "Ah,yes it has. Are you doing well?" We had an idle conversation like that. "Yes, yes but the patrol has recently increased. You & your family should be careful!" "Ah.." I was frozen. To us, a criminal or a burglary might''ve been preferable to our ''family life''. I realised it a little late, so I was in a daze. I felt the world lurch a bit. They trusted each other so easily in a way we could never be, and I was jealous of it. "Sookyung-ssi?" The envy that showed in my face, and the fear that stopped me from leaving. The cold breeze from the freezers and bustling of people shopping with baskets, trollies and bags made me feel more ashamed. I pulled on my skirt a little, unwilling to meet them in the eyes. It felt as if in one glance, they¡¯d know of our instability. "Is there anything we can do for you? Ahem, we all have difficulties in our lives and relationships, so be sure to give yourself sometime!" Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. I was healthier than them in body at least,but seniors weren''t seniors for nothing. Or was I overthinking it? ¡°You should be practising your own words,dear! Sorry!¡± She curtsied in front of me before dragging him off by the ear. If I tried that..I didn¡¯t need to think anymore. I don''t remember the rest. But difficulties? I wonder what shade counts as being truly hard or rough, with the public always complaining these days. Life was naturally tough, so bear it Sookyung. Endure it. The choices I made led to that path. But as I read my story again, I thought. Was it natural to live like this? Coming back from a tedious cubicle, borrowing books in a rush from the library, reading gently to my child, entertaining my husband, working some more, then going to sleep. I repeated that for few days, then weeks. It soon turned into years I could never return from. What did Lee Sookyung want? I didn''t know. Rather, I didn''t want to know. If I ran away, gambling on this country to save us. If I broke down at work and said everything at once. If one day, I gave up on that house. Would I be happy? ¡¸ No. ¡¹ That would be what a proper person would do. All at once, asking for help seemed so simple yet so futile. To take responsibility for your actions & force others to take theirs. Like that, a crooked seed began to root inside me. To honour our marriage to its end, wouldn''t it only be proper? To return these long, difficult and near unliveable years to him. It was extraordinary circumstances, so it was alright. And so, on days where everyone was unbearable, I thought about it. Leaving this small house behind and running away without fearing for the past or future. But that very same place had so many memories. The decorations we carefully chose before his hubris took that happiness away. Not flashy, but not overly traditional either. I''d stare at the wall clock at before going to bed, and quickly switch channels on the flat TV when I heard hasty steps followed by a boozy scent. Picking the wardrobe for our son and choosing carefully what would look best. Shouting at him to be quiet as we heard the crack of a belt¡ª But, despite all that. A pair of small white Velcro shoes made me smile. They always faced the foot of the doorstep. As if one day, the owner of those shoes would walk away without looking back... I always grew a little dazed, considering it. It was probably half why I was forgettable at work. Still, it gave me strength. The unpredictability of his next always appealed to me. And I always saw myself as a part of it, as well. What kind of adult would you grow into? What career would you choose? Would we still be family at that time, Dokja? I suppose you could say that it was my dream. He was what I pinned all those destroyed hopes and placated hypocrisies on. Ah. You aren¡¯t reading for this, right? What happened... yes. At the department store I bought more kitchen knives than usual. It wasn¡¯t too crowded at that time, and giving some lip service to the cashier about needing to replace old ones was enough. It was only fair after lazing around all this time. I couldn''t store them in my bed or drawers. For all that he was, that bastard was cautious on some level. He had to be, in order to win the gamble. To take all his winnings. The kitchen could only hold a few more plates and cups. Besides it was too noticeable if he had one of his fits again. He¡¯d find any justification and sometimes, none at all too. With my own hands, I¡¯d also taste it. Victory. So, I dropped it in my son''s room. A knife that I could hold onto. Chapter 3: The Hero And The Hare My husband, though he was scum and devilish to us - saw himself as quite the hero. It was amazing what men could justify for their ends. Well, it''s old history now, but I couldn''t believe at first when I realised it. That someone who beat his wife, beat his child, gambled and drank all day could justify all that. That was a sign he wasn''t ¡®human¡¯ yet was more human than anyone else. Perhaps, by only living by those basal desires he could call himself a hero. It was most obvious when by an incredible miracle, he¡¯d live to win and keep his cash. The faint jingle of coins, and long absences left barely anything to the imagination. It was only unfortunate that at some point he¡¯d arrive home. Otherwise, to me, that theory was more convincing than the civil society that grinded and grinded away at my gears. Gears that I told me to stand on reason. Gears that said I was wrong for thinking in such a way. Gears that said to trust in the humanity, in the strangers around me. That at least one person would listen to such a story. I could agree on that at least. Because you''re reading this right now, no? Humans are more than their instincts. Then the distant past, or inevitable future. The morality that bound all that told me to take responsibility till the very end. Because of that foolish sense of civility, I went between banks and pulled out loans often. At the very least, I wanted to protect one thing from the real world. That faint peace between his short ¡®vacations¡¯. Because I couldn''t run away from the hero. He''d hunt and hunt for the animals in his keep, then slowly boil them alive. The heroes I¡¯d once read about in fairytales seemed long gone from the reality I was in. But maybe this was just another form of that story. To the villain crushed by the hero, they were the devil. Thus, I am the hero. But for all my disdain and words I couldn¡¯t say, there was a light suspicion for things not being right at home.There was a knock, and I''d just come back from work and was slow. If I knew, I would''ve said everything was well. Instead, the ''hero'' opened the door. And on the other end, was an officer. Yes, a police officer. I won''t pretend. I was excited. I saw a chance, an opportunity. If they came in, if they saw the truth we were living...! It was a simple door to door questions about a murder. Right, yesterday..that elderly couple mentioned it. More people committed suicide here than it was worth pausing and mourning about, so I didn''t understand the reason why. The dead won''t come back. It''s all for your self-satisfaction. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Cooperating quickly while shooing away my son of course, I tried to mouth a few words to him. I don¡¯t know what I expected. It was even rushed, so it was probably hard to read as well. Still, he said the fateful words. What I wanted to hear most at that moment. ¡°I¡¯d like to ask other members of the family some questions.¡± I didn¡¯t control my expression well. But I was satisfied. And because of my satisfaction, forgiving "myself" and forgetting where I was in, he noticed. And in the middle of talking, turned around crushed my throat. Almost. I was ¡®lucky¡¯ in that, I was alive with only a few side effects. I simply couldn¡¯t see for a while. Still due to being witnessed, however I had to sign some medical waivers. They were blurry, and I had to redo my signature several times. Yet, an agreement was made to not bother with court or anything else. With some choice words from him, of course. I couldn¡¯t¡­support Dokja on my own. It was the first of many papers I signed. Where I said along with his words ¨C ''It''s Sookyung'' s fault.'' ¨C It was worded differently, much more formally with different symbols printed in pristine ink, though the meaning remained unchanged. This was only a family matter. There was heavy concern, and a psychological assessment was done, but nothing could be carried out if neither party wanted a fuss. A woman was rather sympathetic to me, with there being quite a bit of security around the exit as well. A small room with the slight scent of iron with the only bit of childishness being a stuffed giraffe plushie. It¡¯s four hindlegs poked out rather cutely.. I focused on it as my vision began to clear, not filling in the silence. She nodded as if reading my thoughts and finally started speaking. Her voice was lowered as if not to stir me out of my daze. I still didn¡¯t meet that gaze. She said she''d gone through similar things, and that if I admitted anything it''d be kept in strict confidence. I didn¡¯t ignore those words, but I couldn¡¯t follow through either. There was only one thing I was certain a person like me could do. Running away in fear. Yes, I could turn away. But. If I did something like that, none of us could live normally anymore. He was someone who deserved to die, so it didn¡¯t matter but what about us? Our next. I could see it being struck through with a harsh reviewer¡¯s pen, that such people with troubled lives were undesirable. What would happen if that history was available for my employers? I knew. What about my reputation? It¡¯d be stained in the same black ink I signed. Would my innocent child be able to heal from that? The answer escaped me. No matter how much I read my life again, it didn¡¯t appear. It was the pages of a story seemed almost never-ending, but the last letters weren¡¯t written anywhere. Just like that. Still, it was only ¡®almost¡¯. And yet, the question of ''next'' was scary. "It''s fine. Only...some family issues." I wonder how I appeared as I said that. Was I shaking? Did I look resolute? I wondered how I appeared back then, and I thought how I could keep going. It was my story. Chapter 4: Sincerity A family matter? Yes. It was only a family problem. Something I could resolve on my own. Without losing anything, I.. I could do it. It''s what I convinced myself to think. As a parent, and as a partner I have that right. After enduring, enduring, enduring, enduring- I would become the hero. Drinking coffee during breaks and reporting mindlessly to management. The day to day didn¡¯t get any easier physically, but mentally ¡ª the daily tasks began to blend. I started dozing off more and often saw him during work. It was my imagination, but I couldn¡¯t help but believe it. The first time I¡¯d kicked my desk and ruined the computer rushing to excuse myself to calm down. I held my chest and breathed raggedly. I suppose I thought that this office was safe from that painful silhouette. But more recently, I saw his death. Clearly, like it was meant to be. Even though I knew I shouldn''t have the capability to do that, even though I was weak. I was drunk on it. I tried to swear off the drink, but on days where I was running late or had to do overtime, it was too tempting. The rush of adrenaline as my heart was beating in my ears was always better than the rush of fear. He sometimes appeared as black and white, partly in grey and on particularly hard occasions coloured. Slowly dying, his breath would pause, and I observed easily. In hindsight, it was practice looking back now. Practice for the reality of things. Such is why "you shouldn''t entertain such thoughts." I pictured needles piercing his throat. I saw his intestines slimy in acid, heard gurgling and screams every time I felt more stressed. As it took more shades of reality, the difficulty of my life increased. I even felt happy for a while. A perverted kind of excitement, while skipping with a tiny bounce in my step. But I suppose it was pushing it, even for me. My story soon set in again as I nearly got run over. The driver didn¡¯t even apologise... afterwards, that stopped occurring. It was because I realised no matter how realistic the idea was it ultimately, like escaping was my imagination. For example, I actually had a curfew. Isn''t that funny? Wasn''t I an adult. I thought while staring at the evening sky, I hadn''t relaxed for a long time as I sat down on the bench, watching as the clouds pass by for a bit. I heard that compared to other countries, Korea was quite friendly with public seating and the like. I wouldn''t know. Well, there was the internet, but I wanted to see it for myself. I laughed. Wasn¡¯t I outside right now? What was this.. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. I hadn''t experienced it for a long time. My child, I or even that always drunk fool. None of us truly got to experience this world. That''s why I. My thoughts scattered as I looked at the sky. With some luck involved, we could escape. I wanted to go on some trips abroad as well or sip a little soju. My cracked wonder supported me. Those tiny, small fragments were cutting into my reason, my logic, my feelings, my emotions. It bled and the scatters spoke to me. The streets were busy, with the blaring honking of cars and buses. The roar of the train could be heard if I took the steps closer to the bridge. After that there were bright colourful sets of shops, one after the other. From department stores I often visited to longer down the lane of Gongju Supermarket, to the reception where my son was attending. Because of that, I had to live. I chose to live on. I would keep choosing to live. Since in the depths of my story there would be a child. A child that would have a deeper, longer and everlasting trauma because of me. So, I had to live. Even if I couldn¡¯t find a next. I also had memories here. I survived till now, and so¡ª I would write the next sentence. It was Mother¡¯s sincerity, Dokja. I wanted both of us to live on, therefore I had to confront the anxiety of yesterday and tomorrow. Yes, from now I¡¯d be more honest than anyone. When I arrived home, he wasn¡¯t there. I got to be a little lazy, and microwaved leftovers while reading to him like usual. Curling up, his small figure napped quickly on the couch. Well, at least I didn¡¯t need to make up an ending - the last pages were ripped out. I could never say I wanted these days to last forever. Still, I could write this. I wouldn¡¯t mind reading that moment over again. The fading lamp made his face appear even more soft, and I pinched his cheeks gently. Black hair quickly fell in front of his short eyelashes. Yes, this was all I wanted. Quiet, simple and peaceful days like this forever. Pulling him into my chest, my blouse felt tighter while sighing. I couldn¡¯t depend on anyone else in this world but myself. My eyes grew hot, and I mumbled a few times. Maybe I could go to the office..but I already signed off my rights. A women¡¯s help organisation? That would be too lacking. What would be the best outcome? What would¡¯ve led to the ending I wanted? If there really was a God, I wanted to ask him that question. Why did humans have to suffer like this? Why did I have to bear this story alone? Why..? The lights were out and all I heard was soft breathing below me. My thoughts kept on twisting without end. Trying to think about something else was fruit- ah, my heels were kicked off and they were on opposite sides of the living room. He might get angry at that. I needed to get up, but the warmth lying on me was comfortable. Staring at the dull ceiling, my hands loosened around him. Chapter 5: Ruin This country was originally ruined. From the Joseon period of three kingdoms to the 20th century, it was all ruined. It was all incorrect. I was let go from the office. Yes, it was without notice as well. School...no, today was a weekend. It was difficult to think any further, so I didn''t. Simply I chose to throw a laptop bag onto the olive couch and not think of anything else. It was a comfortable idleness. But only for a moment. Then it just bored me, so I began writing. It was a hasty few lines - maybe for a diary or some kind of journal. I tried to keep one in the past, but the hero eventually found out. Anyway, envying those with better lives than me, those few sentences flipped the script. Their contentment, peace and stability were words of avarice, only meant to be a parasite to this world. That confidence or ''organised'' facade were the same. All of it melted into a fit pitiful despair. I think I stopped meeting people after that. He wasn''t happy I was working, anyway. It''d be a little different if my salary was higher..I went into our son''s room, feeling under his bed. My ears perked at his soft breathing¡ª he wouldn¡¯t wake up for too long. And felt the hardened ridge of the knife.Yes, this was it. Closing the door behind me,the corridor was quiet with only faint headlights flashing on the wall. My reflection in the steel shifted at dusk. Every time I studied myself my view changed. Brown hair strands draped downwards and shielded my eyes loosely, but from this angle.. sometimes there was warm gaze, while others it was as if I was regarding dirt. Out of habit, I raised the blade upwards. And brought it down. Only acting, of course. If I truly stabbed him.. "You deserved it from the beginning. There wasn''t anything else I could do. No, you caused this." I justified myself. Twisting the knife in my head, it became a dance of footsteps as he cried out in my personal theatre. "You were beyond reason. You didn''t deserve to live." Still, I couldn¡¯t write the last sentence. Didn¡¯t I bear with this for a long time? Why was it so difficult now? If I hesitated it¡¯d just become like any other day. I didn¡¯t want to relive this story. I couldn¡¯t. So, I stabbed and stabbed. Immersed, my foot slipped on the carpet dropping the knife with a clatter. Ah. It was just my imagination. Did I think if I killed him, everything would change? I still wouldn¡¯t be able to repay any loans on time. Debt after debt would pile up,and I¡¯d have no way out. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. ¡°Haha..ha..¡± Dry laughter filled the silence. It wasn¡¯t that funny, but I kept gasping for air. Reality wouldn¡¯t be so smooth that things would end neatly after his death. Maybe one day, he would just vanish, and I didn¡¯t need to do anything. My skirt pressed into the floorboards as an icy chill passed over me. I couldn¡¯t look away from the knife as it¡¯s gleam reflected the stars. It was a devilish salvation. The only way I knew was here. Thinking that again, again and again, I grabbed it by the toughened handle and hid it under his bed in a rush. I wonder if he was pretending to sleep then. If he knew what mother was planning, would he have tried to stop me? What about our neighbours, that elderly couple, my reason..even that bastard, himself. I stood at the foot of his bed in that daze for what felt like years. It was years wasn¡¯t it, Dokja? Despairing, I came to realise once more the necessity of our next. As long as I wrote that sentence, then surely there¡¯d be a day to come where I could read this for the last time. Of this damned trauma, and the never-ending story it brought. That day, my cheer felt oddly great. I remember pulling at my turtleneck as it revealed faintly coloured maroon spots, and my head felt filled with cotton. Still, it didn''t fade even when I was threatened and dragged on the floor. My back stung with bruises while each breath was like thorns. My hair slowly fell forward, covering a fair few. It was a shame it couldn¡¯t cover everything¡ª then I could¡¯ve reassured that child better. That this too, was only a ¡®story¡¯...the most terrible nightmare he¡¯d soon wake up from. The bang of the door was quite loud. Originally, it used to be surprising. "..go to sleep. I''ll take you to school tomorrow." Only his white t-shirt was clearly visible. There was a faint rim-light, but it meant nothing as my vision kept blurring. That small body trembled under the table. If I listened carefully, I heard quick breathing and hiccups. His hands covered his ears, messing his hair as he was shaking trying block out the world. "Dokja." Crawling a bit further, I managed to pat his head with one hand. I held a butter knife in the other. It crashed while we were arguing about me getting a second job. I knew I couldn''t do it now. It wasn''t efficient. Even if I found what casino he was in, angered lovers were only a good laugh. Another trick of addiction. Yes, it could even end worse for me ¨C trafficking or abductions weren¡¯t fiction, after all. But even then, I..veins flexed and popped from my clenched fist. Slamming it down, I shook his shoulders. The knife spun and danced into the couch. He had to shake off his fear. Yet, he flinched away from me as if I was the enemy. No,no.. "We''ll go to the library afterwards, okay? After lessons. Don''t let anyone realise, understood?" "Yes." "We''ll play as well." "I don''t like playing. It''s noisy¡­" "Then we''ll read together." "Okay." I spoke desperately, and he mumbled quietly in turn. If he was listening to me, he could live. Yes, he would be able to live on and walk out confidently from this doorstep. Without looking back. I thought so. What I didn¡¯t want to see was how looked to the side, strands of hair falling in front of his face and with an unclear expression. I didn¡¯t like it. Who knows their child best but their mother? Yet, I couldn¡¯t read his expression. It was inscrutable. Nevertheless, the world moved on and I eventually picked up the call for an ¡®intervention¡¯ of sorts. Chapter 6: Losing [Meet with teacher. 15:00.] I tapped away the notification, blocking another shopping list from view before seeing the check appear. Curled up, he had given up on other kids and wouldn''t get out under the table. The night before had clearly exerted it''s pressure. I thought he¡¯d be able to bear it, thinking of the library. Suppressing a sigh, I studied the room again. ¡¸A brightly coloured room, covered in stickers with a few cartoons, with wallpaper filled with polka-dots. An aged yellow desk littered in fresh notebooks followed by whiteboard covered in black and white drawings. An innocent smile complemented with a sad face.¡¹ ¡¸And a drawing my son did in crayon.¡¹ It was the picture of childhood. However, this ¡®intervention¡¯ was anything but. The only thing it was good for was worsening my headache. "Why can''t I remove him? He is my child." The heat made it tempting to take off my trenchcoat. I scratched the bruise on my neck idly before looking at my fingers with flecks of blood peaking outside my nails. Wearing bright overalls and hair in a loose ponytail, she seemingly gave off a peaceful impression. Only if she wasn¡¯t fidgeting so much. Or trying to haggle with me pointlessly.It wasn''t as if being absent a few times would harm his chances of succeeding Suneung..what a hassle. I''d even heard they were wondering why my husband never came to pick him up,as if he''d ever arrive to school even if he was clear-headed. "Yes,yes..but he already has a lot of missed days. We try to ensure the quality of education-" "Are you saying you know his needs better than me?" She stuttered before shutting her mouth. Compared to us adults, children didn''t know how to hide those cracking emotions yet. But you¡¯d have to learn one day, there was no escape from that reality. I turned towards him. "Here." He shuffled deeper under the table with faint muffling heard about. He felt safe within that underneath. All the while avoiding my hand. Perhaps to him, we were both the enemy. "Mrs Lee. I don''t intend to be rude, however. There are some concerns about the environment at home." "He''s easily upset." "Your child doesn''t socialise with other kids, either! If you..pardon. The most I can allow you is on grounds. Our school has other facilities, so playing outside shouldn¡¯t be a problem." This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. As such, I took him to the swings while other children were learning. The chains seemed sturdy enough. Crossing my arms, I glanced around as I let go of his hand. It felt soft and a little frail. Still, he didn''t speak. I couldn''t lecture him under prying eyes. If anything got out.. Finally, he spoke while looking down. "..day." "Holiday. That''s what made you upset? Hm. I can''t say what something like that is like." Pretending to not understand, I answered his implicit question. Yes, I really hadn''t experienced anything like it for a long time. "...do you want it, Dokja?" He didn''t reply. "Even if you did, I can''t get it for you." There was only saying this. "Give up on it, understood?" I couldn''t nurture the hope that things might get better. Because I didn''t have the will for it, the strength for those ideals. I knelt to his level and whispered to him. "But you can still experience it. As long as you read again." It was the worst, but most truthful conspiracy I could give. His hair fell deeply in front of his face, and he swung a little. Good, he was moving. That should assure them a bit. And show them a mother knows her child better than anyone else¡­then my coat was suddenly dragged. "No one else." Yet I didn¡¯t recognise the desperation that was etched onto his face. "No one else lives like us, Mom!" Feeling dizzy, my hands gripped his shoulders tighter making him flinch. Yes,he was only a child but when he shouted like that, he eerily resembled his father. Stares grew from the window as he continued on,slowly pulling me closer to him. ¡°Why is it only..us? Why does no-one else have to worry? Mom. Don¡¯t you know¡ª¡± I finally brought myself to cover his lips. No wonder he was reacting like this. I was too passive earlier. The trees cast shadows over me,and my lapel flew in the wind. I didn¡¯t say anything,and just continued to stare at him. That was enough. Walking out the school-gates, we headed towards the library. They¡¯d probably try organising another intervention, along with phoning home but I had no plans to answer any further. And he barely engaged in our child¡¯s education. I remember that arrival well. Slowly adjusting the light, he sat on the beanbag and cracked open the pages, noticeably blocking me from view. Ha. He was still cute like this. The sun was soaked in by the bookshelves, as dozens of paperbacks, hardcovers and leatherbound books shone picturesquely on display. The murmurs of others,paper planes and hastily written notes reminded me of my teenage days. I didn¡¯t mind this kind of civility. Rather, it was too nostalgic for me. I just quietly observed that scene for a while before patting his head. He still didn¡¯t know, but we would soon meet an unfamiliar next. So, I had to say it, even if I didn¡¯t want to accept it. I smiled bittersweetly, leaning a little closer to him. My hair blocking the letters caused him to jump and glare at me. Well, at least he was paying attention. ¡°Goodbye, Dokja.¡± He dug his face deeper into the book. Ah, this child of mine.. ¡°I¡¯ll be back quickly, don¡¯t worry.¡± Finally, giving a quick explanation to the librarian observing our little world, I walked out of those double doors for the last time and towards the department store. Swiping the screen, I brought up the shopping list. Maybe there was another way. But the sentence had already been written. It was the conclusion. Chapter 7: Dear Other than my family, what else is important to me? I don''t know. I didn''t have anything outside those shards of desire. Of course, I deserved it. I didn''t reach out to anyone properly and so, no one reached out for me. The only beings who can do that in this world were children. I wonder if I would''ve made a good teacher. In different circumstances, maybe. But reality wasn''t fiction. Even if I said a few words well, the present wouldn''t alter. That''s why I was bad at comforting people and why I couldn''t change. The idea of his ''untimely'' death was appealing to me. After that..no, I was thinking too optimistically. What if we both died and left that child alone? Relatives, assets and endless money issues. No. He must pay his dues here. My husband must die here. I wrote about the strangers that orbited around me. My former coworkers, elderly couples, teachers. And the short company I had shared with them. My ''next'', and theirs would diverge forever.
"Thank you for buying! Come again!" My bag was hard to hold, heavy with washing liquid, bleach, knives..sponges. Was this much even necessary? I could just use household things too. Still, this was the second step needed. Sighing while looking at the sky,I thought. To secure the best future for us, it could only end in this manner. Repeating this, just as I read my life again in regret after my choices. "..." I could still stop here. I could still endure it. But I recalled my reflection in the knife, I couldn''t believe that. My performance, my planning what was it for? I walked closer to our door and ignored the slight ache in my heart. It was words that he''d never get to hear. That he didn''t deserve to hear. Dear. Our marriage wasn''t unavoidable. You could''ve just left me alone. But. You jeered, beat, and cursed so freely in front of me. Therefore, everything was already in motion and couldn''t be stopped. From here on out, I''ll take all responsibility. The next few weeks after that were rather calm. He left early to his ruin, and I walked our son to school. The teachers were still giving me a headache. It¡¯d only be a matter of time till they found about those useless documents I signed from what felt like years ago. By the way, he stabilised a bit. He no longer hid in the underneath, but didn''t look for friends either. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Well, he has his whole life ahead him. I found it hard to spare anymore concern than that. It was hard to say the same to staff, but it wasn''t impossible to ignore. Finally, the last and final stages had been reached. It was both a long and short time, wasn''t it? I began to collect tapes as well as ropes. Preferably, he''d die without knowing anything. Just as he was loathed while mocking it all this time. Struggling, not understanding and begging for mercy in every way. You didn''t care for it at all, did you? I became a murderer for you. My feelings at that time were blurry. But acting had also enhanced other aspects. Like this, a silent joy told me to go on. The purchase itself was quick, and I bought some crayons for the school as a later apology. However, I never got to give it. That day, his stench was full of alcohol. He was overbearing and threatened me like usual. The knife was supposed to be in Dokja''s room, but I left it on the counter just for today. Even then, I still gave him a chance. I already knew the answer. I already resolved to kill him. "Put that down, we can talk about this..!" I acted desperate. I was desperate. "You? Haha..!" He had lost something outside. A bet, a high stakes gamble? I should consider myself lucky he didn''t take the house as an ''asset'' yet. At the very least he wasn''t that foolish. I irritated him on dinner purposefully, but perhaps I was fooled by the ebb and flow of these peaceful, silent days. Out of it, I was afraid for myself like usual. "You aren''t even attractive. At least our Sookyung should have one good thing about her, ah?" "But you only teach those useless fantasies all day." If I was able to control you, if I was able to change you. Would it be like those fairytales? I faced reality once again. He drank more alcohol. The harsh scraping of chairs happened at the same time. He moved forward, while I stepped back. "Fucking..why''d I get stuck..gloomy bitch-" "Dokja-yah. Go to your room." But if you tamed it, and it tamed you..yes, we could of have something like a relationship. The wall behind me felt hot, alight with anger enough to burn the world. "Dokja,Dokja..haha! You only talk to that kid! Never, never to me.." I closed my eyes. My left arm was barely functional, with a bruise fast turning purple. Blood kept dripping to the floor, no matter how I tried to force it back down with my hand. It only seeped through my fingers ruining my sleeves. Did I really try give mercy to this kind of person? I wanted to laugh. I didn''t plan for this. I didn''t want to pity you. At that moment, he stumbled on some rope. Yes¡ª No matter what came next,I¡¯d surely be able to kill you. I grabbed the knife from the table. It hurt. I raised a battered arm. My bones were cracking. And swung it down again and again. I swung it for my despair. I swung it because I didn''t believe he could be dead. I cut, swung and stabbed deeper for my satisfaction. His squeals slowly cut off. But my anger, my shame didn''t disappear. It couldn''t disappear. Parents like this, a mother like me.. These thoughts wanted more than anything else to see all too clearly, cloudy, lifeless, dead eyes. I eventually stood up. My skirt was dirty, and my hair frazzled. I heard a door swing open awhile after that. ¡¸ Dokja. ¡¹ I smiled towards my only son. ¡¸ From now on, I will read all of this again. ¡¹ ¡¸Thus, you have to remember well. Understood? ¡¹ Chapter 8: Interrogation Thank you for reading thus far. The story you read before was written by the murderer on trial. Next is a summarised transcript and additional interviews of other figures. Please note this of our interrogation right after the murder. We are licensed to release this as in bound in relation to Criminal Procedure Act (Act 341 of September 23, 1954, as amended up to Act No. 11572 of December 18, 2012), Republic of Korea. Licensed for commercialisation.
[Explaining rights, clarifying motivation behind first degree murder and child''s psychology. They¡¯re still under heavy supervision while being supported by relatives.] Dr Jeon: Have you had your rights explained to you before? :¡­. Dr Jeon: I¡¯ll go ahead and explain then. Firstly, you would be subject to legal representation, though you¡¯ve rejected the opportunity. Your trial has also been fast-tracked, with prosecutors opting to pushing for a life sentence. There¡¯s also.. : Get to the point. Dr Jeon: This would be helpful in legal proceedings, howev¡ª : There won¡¯t be any court. Do you need a trial to decide who killed him? Dr Jeon: No, but it will be necessary to decide the total of your sentence. : (unintelligible) Dr Jeon: Do you understand me, Ms Lee? : Ms¡­It¡¯s just Lee Sookyung now. Since I¡¯m not married anymore. Dr Jeon: Why did you kill your husband? : Did you not get the scan? I¡¯m sure there should still be marks on my neck. Maybe it¡¯s the hair. Dr Jeon: I can¡¯t assume, so please state it outright. It will influence the trial, after all. : He abused me..and our child. Do you need any more details than that? You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Dr Jeon: How often was it? You also signed papers waiving your right to trial against him a few months ago. Was there any external factors? : You..it depended on his mood. And whether he lost the bet, which was often..someone like that couldn¡¯t be convinced. Dr Jeon: But did that mean you had to kill him? : I believe in the decision I made. Because in no thanks to him, this entire world was full of walls. Even now,walls of your thinking and mine can¡¯t co-exist. It is, It was the same for us. Dr Jeon: Alright. Understanding the intent behind your crime was due to domestic abuse,why did you call the police right afterwards? Wouldn¡¯t it have been easier to start disposing of the evidence? :..of course,it would¡¯ve been nice to do that. Unfortunately, my child was panicking. Right after he opened that door,there was a loud shriek. I didn''t include it in my memoir because..well,it felt unsuitable.Anyway seeing that there was nobody to turn to, I decided to call the police. There wasn¡¯t anything to lose for me. Dr Jeon: Why was it ''unsuitable''. Was it even for not being able to see your child? : And that relates to the investigation? Haha¡­he¡¯ll be able to live on. Because I raised him. Dr Jeon: ...right. Previously, you talked about ¡®walls¡¯. Did this also motivate the murder? : Killing a thing like that wasn¡¯t ¡®murder¡¯. But in your words, yes. It was the inevitable end, and the next I chose. Dr Jeon: Your arm is broken. Didn''t you take a risk that could''ve been avoided? :Was he something that could''ve been avoided? Were those bruises..pain. And shame, something to be forever afraid of? No. Thus, I killed him. Dr Jeon: But I heard you rejected state help. If you had chosen that path,couldn¡¯t things have been different? Please don¡¯t remain quiet. Dr Jeon: Or do you not believe in the answer you can give? :I answered that already. You just want a different answer, while trying to say you¡¯re helping me. Dr Jeon: This won¡¯t move on,will it¡­mm. Your son''s psychological state hasn''t been identified. He isn''t speaking to any of our people or medical personnel. : ..what do you want me to do? Dr Jeon: Please assure him. Please believe in our capacity. : Do I look like someone who can do that? He watched me stab him just behind me. He saw all of that blood splatter and his crazed parents. You must not be qualified if- Dr Jeon: You have to be able to do that. What was it you said? Ah Dr Jeon: In your words, please consider this as ''reading again'', Lee Sookyung. :...Understood.
Truncating interrogation for brevity. Due to high public interest, we considered making trial videos available (as seen in other countries, famously the United States) however in consideration of the privacy of surviving relatives and mental state of the accused, we chose not to. Instead, we released this memoir in conjunction with the criminal. She proposed it first, as a ¡°warning¡±. However, it was combed through for secret messages and other things like that, so rumours and speculation are unnecessary. The next chapter will be interviews with the figures mentioned in previous chapters. [Interrogation and compiling done in accord to Republic Of Korea.]