People's ability to adapt is revolting. Something strange can become mundane in a matter of months. Now my daily days begin with her leaving her bedroom. I prepare her breakfast, she quietly eats. We sometimes visit the cafe, sometimes a walk around the neighborhood. Noon comes and I prepare lunch for her. These days her palate favors more national cuisine. I pretty much live in her living room now. For two unemployed people, we simply live out our lives in this endless cycle.
I don't sleep at nights...well I can't but during the few nights while hearing her calm breathing, my mind eases itself, disappearing into the abyss for sometime. My dreams are the same always, some literation of her trapped to her death. I jerk awake, frantically looking for her. I open the door to her room and stare at her sleeping face for the rest of the night. I leave at dawn before she wakes up, she doesn't need to know I make a spare key or two. Her habit of taking sleeping pills to sleep allows me this one comfort.
The door creeks open.
I put on a bright smile,
"What do you want for breakfast?"
She has gotten used to my overenthusiastic self. She humors me most of the time as long as I keep within the boundaries. Living here is fine, calling her anything other than madam is not. I can walk beside her but not hold her hands. My existence is allowed but my being with her is not. So I use her guilt, her pity and my shameless to solidify my existence in her life.
"I was feeling like Kimchi Jigae today." My eyes begging her, pamper me.
Looking at my face she sighs,
"Make it."
....
"This tastes..."
I know.
I enthusiastically dig in
"Don't eat it."
I take away her bowl. Dejected, I bring out the carton of milk. She takes a look at my face.
"I'll make it."
"It tastes great." I don't taste anything but it's warm.
She smiles a little, enjoying my enthusiasm.
"Eat more."
My existence to her right now is butler slash cat. I do most chores but I deliberately mess up some.
"Jaeha-ya don't fold them like that."
I stare at her folding her clothes. She'd make a good housewife and a dangerous mother-in-law. I giggle at the thought.
She pretends that incident didn't happen and I let her.
"Where is he?"
We're both dusting. She carries on wiping the table.
"Somewhere."
"Somewhere close?"
"Somewhere."
She's hardly resistant, the ordinal took away her fighting spirit. She even gave into me moving in here without much argument. This is familiarity. I am a piece of her live she had to give up to carry on but I remind her of that time. I am both precious and poisonous to her.
"Should we get onions or shallots?"
We're at the fresh market.
"Get shallots, onions here lack flavor."
"K, Noona." I sneak these in during circumstances where she can't outright reject me.
"Sorry, Madam." Looking down.
She sighs.
"Upstairs is pretty empty."
She hums a reply.
"The couch is a little too uncomfortable for me."
I carry on cutting the shallots.
"Sleep at your place then." How cold.
"I can't. I get nightmares..."
My speed increases, chop chop and splash.
"Jaeha-ya!"
She hurries, putting my finger under the tap.
"Pay more attention!"
"You're too careless."
"What happened to you, you were never this careless before."
"Can I move in upstairs, I just don't like the nightmares of you suffocating. I promise It will be like I'm not here."
"You're always here." She looks like she is holding back tears and a few curse words. She knows, she's too smart not to know.
She pulls me to the couch.
"Jaeha-ya, have I rejected any of your requests?" Her focus in on stopping the bleeding of my hand.
"Hmm."
"Don't harm yourself, it is unbecoming."
My hand is properly bandaged.