Looking out towards the small courtyard at the front of our home, I watched my mother gingerly stumble back inside, evidently shaken. 

There was crashing and yelling coming from the other end of the road, which wasn’t unusual, considering the older ladies usually sold off their food there. Still, one particularly gut-churning sound dragged my mother outside. Gunfire.

Nonetheless, she held herself together, clutching her hanbok tightly to stop herself from trembling. 

I stood in the middle of my bedroom, away from the fragile, paper windows as she’d instructed.

A deep breath later, and she was standing right outside my room.

She wasted no time in thinking of what to say. Almost as if she’d rehearsed it.

“Hyeon-woo, listen to me very carefully,” she said, bracing herself against the entrance. Her legs looked like they were about to give out. The blood had begun to recede from her face, making her look ill.

“What’s… what’s going on?!” I pressed, frozen with fear. My body endured waves of tingling that oscillated up and down the length of it, each pass feeling more painful than the last.

“Men are coming to our door. They have rifles.”

“Rif-!” I interrupted, but she wasn’t interested in hearing me speak. My mother usually spoke with a kind of gentle authority, but I’d never seen her so serious.

“Listen,” she continued, looking me directly in the eyes whilst slowly approaching me.

“They have rifles, and they’re coming to take us away. Your father and I decided what I would do if it came to this, so do exactly as I say, you hear me? I’ll try to stall them from coming in, but I won’t resist much. In the meantime, find Youngmi… and run.”

“But… Mother, I can’t leave you! What if-!” I pleaded. 

As if she knew exactly what I’d say, she cut me off once again.

She was now only inches away and looking up at me, almost as if she was studying my face with her eyes.

“They won’t kill an old lady like me, darling,” she assured me, reaching up to run her fingers through my hair. Her hands felt abnormally cold.

“So don’t worry, and just go. I’ll be fine. I’ll find Youngmi’s mother and stick with her. We’ll keep each other company.”

“But… Father told me to protect you! I-I can’t, Mother!” I resisted, balling my hands into fists by my sides. My mother’s eyebrows began to quiver, her rehearsed facade slowly beginning to break.

Tears began to fall from my eyes before I was conscious that I was crying. I knew there was no escaping this situation, but still, I couldn’t just leave the woman I love the most to die.

“Please, just… please listen to me?” she pleaded. 

“Grab Youngmi, and head straight up Mt. Jinsan. Just past the rest stop halfway, there’ll be a plateau,” she continued.

She knows about the plateau?

“If you continue running east, you should eventually hear a waterfall around there…use it to-”

The increasingly loud shouting at the end of the street, coupled with the screams of women, grew closer. 

Panicked by this, my mother sped up her speech. She knew we were running out of time, but it seemed like she wanted to say everything she possibly could before I left. 

It felt like she knew something I didn’t… like we’d never see each other again.

“Just slip out the back like you always do, and go straight up. Don’t look back. Now go!” she ordered. 

Youngmi’s house was only two doors down, and there was a two-meter-high mortar wall that ran between her house and mine. It was just taller than me, so I could make it there undetected if I was careful.

Without giving me another chance to open my mouth, my mother hurriedly circled behind me and ushered me towards the rear door. 

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. 

I lifelessly trudged towards the shoe rack, my mother’s hands on my back pushing me forward all the while. 

How… Is any of this… Happening?

She hurried me out the way she usually did on any other day, but this time was just too much. 

I automatically put on my father’s old, worn-out boots that I used to hike, before snapping out of my daze.

“Mother… I can’t…!” I repeated, my voice cracking with anguish. 

Tears welled in her eyes, despite her straining to keep them in. It was clear this was even harder for her than it was for me, but still, I had to say it. I knew that I had to go, and that she wouldn’t let me stay… but I just couldn’t say anything else.

First it was my father, and now, me. 

Parting in any circumstance is terrible, but being the one left behind aches differently. I know that she doesn’t want to be left alone.

Her normally well-kept bun began to unfurl at the back, as she covered her mouth with her left hand to silence her tears.

In her right hand, my mother presented me her silver hairpin—the same one that she wore every day. She had a few, but the silver was the most special. It was gifted to her for their wedding.

She normally sported a wooden one, but has been wearing her silver one since my father left. I hear sobbing from her room on occasion late at night, and also catch her regularly gazing blankly at it when she puts her hair up in the morning.

The moment the war broke out, Father had told her to get rid of it so she wouldn’t be more of a target if the worst came to pass. 

“They might be less likely to target single women, so please… just pretend you don’t have a husband,” he’d said. 

If they knew she was married, they’d also know that she’d likely have a child, and they’d come for me, too. At the time, she laughed in his face and said that they’d have to take it off her body. 

But if she’s giving me this, that means… I can’t take this, mother…

She pried open one of my hands and shoved the hairpin in before quickly closing it back up. Her hand was slow to let go, and I could feel it trembling profusely. 

“Hyeon-woo, my baby… Please live. Live, and then come find us at the end of all of this,” she said softly, swallowing her tears.

“We’ll be waiting for you, but don’t come looking for us too soon. Now go.” 

“Mother, I-”

She ran her fingers through my hair, clutching and savouring the strands in her fists, before taking one last look at me and pulling me into the crook of her neck. I swore I could smell her fear, and my legs felt like they were rooted in place, unwilling to move.

“Make sure you always eat well, son,” she said, forcing a smile, before shoving me out the door and slamming it.

Who I found waiting on the other side of the door, though, was a shock.

It was none other than Kim Youngmi. 

She’d come to me first—drenched in blood. But I hadn’t noticed. Mrs. Kim had probably told her the same thing. 

Not even seconds later, I heard my mother’s voice on the other side of the house, and the wooden creak of the front sliding door, along with the voices of two men shouting at her. 

Before I had time to barge back in, Youngmi took my hand, and our bodies just moved on their own. We sprinted out the back and up towards the mountain, and it all went blurry.

***

“Then… this blood is…” I continue, sobering up to reality in front of me.

Youngmi sobs silently, aching to get words out, but she is unable to. Normally the heart on her sleeve type, the one to scream how she feels; now, her body is instead agonising to keep it all in. 

I get it, though. If she says what happened out loud, it’s like she’s admitting it’s reality and not a dream.

“…” 

I don’t know what to say. I can’t believe this.

I reach for Youngmi’s arm, pulling her towards me in the hope that an embrace will say what words can’t. I pull her in, her face burying itself deep into my chest. I’d almost completely forgotten about being shot. Well, it’s nothing now, compared to this.

Youngmi strains herself to speak, the words seemingly being strangled by her esophagus while fighting their way out of her body. 

“Yes… it’s… Mother’s blood.” 

She briefly raises her trembling left hand to her face, wiping the matted concoction of hair, sweat, tears, and mucus from it. 

“They came to our house, and she rushed me into the kitchen… she told me to hide,” Youngmi says, her wavering voice muffled as she talks into my breastbone.

As I stroke the back of Youngmi’s head in an effort to comfort her, I notice that something feels amiss.

Her hair is different. 

Her normally tight, well-maintained single braid had been significantly shortened—today, instead, coiled around itself into a messy, low bun, fastened with a metallic hairpin. Her mother’s silver hairpin. 

So Mrs. Kim also…

“They stormed in and barked at her… asking her where her kids were…” 

I gently release her from my embrace, revealing Youngmi’s vacant eyes. She’s staring straight into my chest, as streams of tears run down her cheeks, converging into one under her chin. 

“She told them that she was never married… and that she was… just a lonely woman,” she continues slowly, her voice seemingly pinned under the weight of her mother’s words.

Youngmi suddenly looks up towards me, and her eyes focus, meeting mine. I feel like they are pleading with me. It’s almost as if they are begging me to do the impossible – to return her mother to her. 

“I could hear… how desperate she was to leave with them,” she sobs, as the corners of her lips quiver violently, and the veins in her neck strain. 

I hate this. 

It was like this when she’d lost her father, too. All I can do is listen helplessly. I clench my jaw shut and bite my tongue, pulling her into my embrace once more. 

“I hid behind the Onggi jars in the kitchen. She…she’d actually told me to stack them in the corner a few weeks ago… do… do you think she…?” she whimpers, unable to continue asking her question.

Tears continue pooling in her eyes. 

“N-next… they started breaking things in her room. She was crying, begging them to just take her…”

“I think they saw the altar that she had for Father and…”

“and…” she fights through tears.

I rub Youngmi’s back in a circular motion with my hand as the words catch in her throat.

“She grabbed one of the men and pulled them out of the room and the gun…”

“...the gun…”

She can’t finish her sentence. Her eyebrows quiver, and her lips shake as tears continue to carve paths down her cheeks. 

The thing that had taken her father had now claimed her mother, too. 

She sharply inhales between sobs, casting her eyes toward the ground. Her fingers cling to my hanbok as she uses me to hold herself up. 

“It was deafening…” she sobs.

I stand there in silence, as weak sobs of my own escape with my breath. 

I feel so useless.

“After they left, I went straight to her side, but the moment I laid eyes on her, I knew…”

“S-She was…” 

“...she was still warm though…” she says in a whisper, her face wringing in anguish. There was no noise left to come out.

I reach out to her and pull her in, burying her head into my chest once more as I stroke her hair. Time seems to stop. Escaping isn’t even on my mind anymore. 

Perhaps I’ve just lost hope.

A few moments pass, and Youngmi violently snorts up her mucus and wipes her irritated eyes. Her expression is vacant, but quickly steels. Her breath has steadied. I take note of her lips, which are firmly pursed, as her nose continues to weep. She looks determined.

I look towards the treetops, trying to maintain my own composure. I stroke the top of Youngmi’s head and stare skyward.

We’ve got to make it out of here for both of them. Our mothers are…

Gazing up into the thick clouds, a few words leave my lips before I get a chance to think about what they are.

“They’re amazing…our mothers…are amazing…”

Youngmi nods, but doesn’t say anything in return. She reaches for my hand once more, holding on to it firmly this time. 

I look back towards the foot of the mountain, and I realise just how much time has passed. It’s dark now. We’ve got to go.

“We have to hurry,” I say, looking at Youngmi, who wipes her face once more.

She nods in agreement, wearing a look of resolve. 

As we turn towards the direction of the falls, the consequences of our extended stay immediately catch up to us.

Out of the corner of my eye, a distant orange flash briefly catches me by surprise.

Its beam is bright, almost enveloping our bodies within it. For a moment, my feet are glued in place, almost as if I’ve become a tree myself.

They’re here.

I gasp sharply, and so does Youngmi, squeezing my arm with both of her hands. I motion silently with my head, nodding towards the source of my horror, where we see several more flashlights trailing loosely behind. 

They’re not far away. Probably about a hundred metres or so. Five lights criss-cross over each other, almost as if they’re competing to catch us. We really are being hunted.

We stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, but is merely seconds. Youngmi’s pupils are so wide that I feel like they’ll swallow me.

“Go!” I shout under my breath as I muster up the courage to set my body free from this paralysis. We duck and weave between the trees, given nowhere to hide by their exceptionally tall, lower branches. 

No one shouted… Did they?...

Good…

I don’t think they noticed…

The now bitterly cold night wind lashing at the hopes of our parents riding on our shoulders, Youngmi and I continue our sprint towards Lover’s Falls.