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amedusoleil-blog · 6 years ago

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There’s no use crying about it,

Sol watched Gwangju fade away in the rear window, and wondered silently if she’d ever see it again. At the same time, she wondered if she’d ever want to see it again. Why would she? The greatest tragedy she’d ever known had happened there, a trauma she’d probably carry with her forever. But it still felt like home, didn’t it? The ten year-old little girl glanced over at her mother, seated beside her in the back of the bus en route to Seoul, chattering on her phone making arrangements with the company scouts that had invited them to the city in the first place.

For as long as she could remember, she wondered what home felt like. Paris had been her first home, of course, but much of what she saw was from the windows of their luxury apartment while her mom shouted at her to keep her shoulders leveled during ballet practice. When they moved to Gwangju, though, it was the first time she was able to see the world outside those four walls, to meet kids her own age from a mixed bag of cultures. After getting past the language and cultural barriers at first, she actually had friends, people who actually liked her for who she was, and didn’t care about the merits she had as a dancer or a performer. No one ever asked her how many languages she could speak or what octaves she could sing in to gain their approval, it was simple, and it was nice. Soleil felt like a kid for once, even if it was only during school hours, before she had to march home for her daily lessons to begin.

But that day changed everything, for everyone. It had only been two weeks since the fire, but it felt like much longer to Sol. She felt like she’d been fighting for months to remember what had happened, but it was as if her brain had selectively blocked out the entire event. She briefly met with a therapist, but all they really told her was to not push herself too hard to recall what happened, that it was most likely a defense mechanism her brain was using to protect her from the trauma. Her mother was of course relieved, but it never felt to Soleil that she was relieved for her daughter’s sake. She would always remember this as one of the first times she truly became jaded about the toxic relationship she had with her mother.

But it wasn’t so simple to just accept forgetting what happened. On the one hand, maybe she didn’t want to know the horrors she’d seen that day, but on the other, she felt a sense of guilt over the fact that, while the other survivors were dealing with the repercussions of that day, somehow Sol got a pass from the suffering because her brain was overprotective? It didn’t seem fair.

Now, as much as she wanted to remember, she suddenly had new, life altering changes on the horizon, like the sudden course her life was taking. Her mother had packed their things and booked the bus tickets to Seoul almost the minute that scout had called, saying they saw some potential in Soleil while watching the near-constant news coverage about what was happening in Junam. “This is everything we worked for!” She explained excitedly, easily forgetting the horrors her daughter experienced and completely ready to move on to the next big thing. Even though she said “we”, it never really felt like the team effort she was going for.

In spite of all the grief and trauma Soleil had already experienced in the past weeks, needless to say, her mother didn’t care about letting her say goodbye to her friends. The little girl begged and pleaded, but her mother insisted there wasn’t any time, they had a tight schedule to keep and that was more important. The schedule, the schedule, the schedule. It was really the only God her mother worshipped. That didn’t stop Sol from sneaking out on the day of their departure while her mom was busy packing their things. She showed at her best friend Nari’s door, tears streaming down her face as she hugged her friend goodbye, promising to write when she could. She didn’t know if it was a promise she was going to be allowed to keep, but she wanted to hope. The tearful goodbye was short-lived, since of course her mom eventually tracked her down before she had a chance to say goodbye to anyone else.

So here they were, rain falling on the windows of the bus and Gwangju slowly disappearing in the distance behind them. She’d dried her tears by now. She knew there was no use crying about it anymore, her mother wouldn’t allow it. Now, they were a mere two hours trip from Seoul, where a whole new life was awaiting her.

#dying light activity check

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amedusoleil-blog · 8 years ago

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