UNLIKELY MATCH | HEESEUNG

31 - Because Silence Stings

SENA'S POV

"Mom," The word comes out as a plea, as I stand there, my hand pressed against my stinging cheek, my eyes searching for some sign of denial or explanation in my mother's gaze. But she remains silent, her eyes averted, unable to meet mine. "Mom, please tell me he's lying," I plead, my voice cracking with desperation. But my mother doesn't deny it. My mother doesn't deny the fact that she tried to kill me and I don't know what to do with this horrifying truth. Everything I've ever known feels like it's crumbling around me. The love and trust I've placed in my mother feels like it's been betrayed in the most profound way imaginable. How could a mother commit such an unthinkable act against her own child? How could she look me in the eye all these years, knowing the truth of what she'd done?

The pain in my cheek pales in comparison to the ache in my heart as I struggle to come to terms with this devastating revelation. A part of me wants to scream, to demand answers, to shake her until she confesses to some twisted reason behind her actions. But another part of me is paralyzed by shock and disbelief, unable to comprehend the depth of her betrayal. I can never understand her. I will never understand her. 

"Is this what you've been wanting?" My father's scornful voice echoes in my mind, and I can still feel the sting of his slap on my cheek. His words, like a venomous serpent, continue to poison my thoughts. "I wanted you to live your life without knowing the truth but you just kept pushing and pushing, Sena. I'll tell you the truth right now and I hope you choke on it. You're not her daughter," He spits out the words like they're poison. "You were never meant to be a part of this family. You're just a burden, a mistake we've been forced to carry all these years because you would just not die. And now, you've ruined everything."

The air is knocked out of my lungs and I'm nothing but a shell of a person, standing in the midst of the wreckage of my shattered reality. I feel as though I'm back in that lake, drowning, suffocating, but this time, I don't want anyone to save me. This time, I want to disappear into the depths, to let the water consume me and wash away the pain and betrayal that cling to my very soul. "You're lying," I whisper, my voice barely audible even to my own ears. "You have to be lying." But deep down, I know he's not. My father would never lie to me when he insults me and says everything one would never tell want to hear from their own parent.

It's funny how when you're exposed to too much pain and betrayal, the world around you seems to lose its color. The once familiar walls of my childhood home now feel suffocating, each corner hiding secrets darker than I could have ever imagined. I'm no longer the same person who walked through that door just moments ago. I'm no longer a sane person, I fear. 

"You weren't supposed to be here, Sena, your mother was supposed to get rid of you, and yet, you were found at our door in a fucking basket," My father's words are like daggers plunging into my already wounded heart. "We should have left you there to die like the worthless piece of trash you are." I'm too numb to even register the full impact of his words. 

My gaze shifts to the woman I thought was my mother, still standing there, silent and unmoving, as though she's carved from stone. I don't cry, in fact, I don't do anything. I don't know what's the right thing to do anymore. Everything I thought I knew about my family has been shattered into a million irreparable pieces, leaving me standing in the wreckage of my own life. Am I supposed to be happy? Or to be utterly devastated? I can't seem to feel anything at all. It's as if I've been hollowed out, stripped of all emotion, left with nothing but a gaping void where my heart used to be.

"You're just going to stand there and say nothing?" I somehow manage to choke out, my voice barely a whisper. Though I'm not sure anything she would say can ease the pain I'm feeling, I still need some form of acknowledgment from her, some sign that she's not completely devoid of humanity. But she remains silent, her gaze still averted, her hands trembling at her sides. And in that moment, I realize that there's nothing left for me here. There's no comfort to be found in the arms of the woman who tried to end my life, no comfort to be sought from the man who wishes I were dead. I'm alone in this world, more alone than I've ever been before.

Without another word, without even a backward glance, I turn and walk out of the study, out of the house that once held so many memories, so much pain. I don't know where I'm going, or what I'm going to do next, but I know that I can't stay here.I don't break yet. Not until I make it to my apartment, slowly closing the door behind me, kicking off my shoes like I'm shedding the remnants of myself. I collapse onto the couch, the tears I've been holding back finally spilling over as I let out a gut-wrenching sob. It feels like I'm mourning not just the loss of my family, but the loss of the illusion of love and security that I clung to for so long. 

The world is no longer smiling at me and I'm no longer the happiest person in the room. I'm just a broken soul trying to make sense of a reality that feels like a nightmare from which I can't wake up. Right now, the world is laughing at me, reminding me of every person who ever made me feel worthless, unwanted, ugly, hard to love. I'm starting to think that this is just how I'm supposed to live. I'm starting to believe that I'm just an unwanted person, I'm just someone who doesn't deserve happiness or love.

All I ever wanted was to be loved. I ached to be loved. I licked it off my own wounds, patched up the broken pieces with smiles that hid the fractures underneath. But now, the wounds are reopened, and the smiles have faded into a haunting memory. The ache in my chest is a relentless reminder of the shattered dreams, the broken promises, and the unconditional love that was never meant for me.

I'm nothing but a burden. I'm nothing but a mistake that just wouldn't die.