The Korean Trilogy by Janeczka Dabrowski

Pt 1 - Along Life

The doorbell rang and woke her up. The ringing seemed to echo against every wall, every corner of their large apartment. It lasted only five seconds, but it felt a lot longer. SooYoung looked at the bright alarm clock on her side of the bed. It was dead on three o’clock. She glanced at her spouse who was sleeping soundly beside her. His back turned, he was snoring faintly. As silently as she could, she slid out of bed, her silk pyjamas softly rustling against the sheets. She hurriedly shuffled to the door, as she did not want the bell to ring again and wake her husband up. *

She looked through the eyelet, but didn’t see anybody. Still, her instinct made her open the door, just to check. She was taken aback by what she saw. Who could have left such a parcel on her doorstep? And why her? She carefully took the baby in her arms; it was a little girl, just a few weeks old. She had a head full of hair and a disarming smile. Her crown bore the sweet scent of jasmine. Surprisingly, she kept very quiet, only gurgling faintly. SooYoung was now wide awake, as was the baby. She looked around with big, inquiring eyes. Everything captivated her: the Buddha on the mantelpiece; the flowers perfectly arranged in a vase in the middle of a table in the centre of the room. The baby smiled to SooYoung, and she felt a warmth, a comfort she had never fully experienced, not even with her husband, JongMin. They had been married for quite some time now, and she had pined for a child of her own – but nothing so far had happened. JongMin worked in a big company and was always very busy, leaving the house before she woke up and often coming back late at night. They hardly saw each other at all. But now, her dream had come true. This simple thought filled SooYoung with happiness. She examined the baby girl, so small but already so full of life, and looking into her eyes brought back a memory in her mind. Of what, she didn’t know – it was all very vague;

an elusive emotion, indescribable, gone as quickly as it had come. She had the impression she had already seen that baby – but when or where, she could not recall. Suddenly, she felt completely lost, torn apart, scared – but again, she didn’t know what she was scared of. She could feel every muscle in her body tense up. She was clinging to the baby more than the baby was clinging to her. *

The doorbell rang and woke her up. She looked at the bright alarm clock on her side of the bed. It was dead on three o’clock. So it had all been a dream! She felt sad, but somewhat relieved at the same time. She hurried to the door, JongMin snoring away in the background. She didn’t even look through the eyelet; she just opened the door wide with a flourish. An old woman was standing in front of her. Her appearance alone demanded respect. She reminded SooYoung of her own mother – or, possibly, an aunt. The old woman sported bright coloured, though not luxurious, garments, and her silver hair was simply, yet elegantly, tied in a bun. Without a word, she invited herself in, and SooYoung didn’t object. She sat down, smiling, and quickly glanced around, looking satisfied. ‘Would you like something to eat?’ asked SooYoung, the perfect hostess. ‘Or drink?’ Slowly, the woman articulated: ‘Tea, please.’ ‘I’ll be one minute.’ Taking care not to wake her husband up, SooYoung prepared some green tea, wondering at the same time why this woman had come to her door and what she wanted. Discretely, SooYoung checked on her. The woman was admiring her vase and the bouquet of flowers she kept inside it. She looked proud and amused all at once. What was so funny?

SooYoung came back in with the tea and poured it ceremoniously – but she didn’t drink any. She thought she could vaguely smell the fragrance of sweet jasmine – but it might just have been the woman’s perfume. ‘How is the tea?’ She was very soft spoken – a little bit too much, perhaps. . ‘Exquisite, my dear.’ SooYoung looked slightly relieved and eased back into her chair, although somewhat slouching, with a vaguely worried look on her face. She had a habit of hiding behind her long, dark hair and eyelashes. She rarely smiled - her mind was constantly preoccupied with things she needed to do, past memories, or future concerns. The woman put her cup down. ‘How’s work?’ she asked, not wishing to look directly at SooYoung. ‘Erm… work’s fine’, she blurted out, surprised by the question. Her job involved checking typos in pre-published books. She enjoyed it, but it was lonely at times. ‘And how’s married life treating you?’ SooYoung glanced at her wedding ring and pulled at the medallion she was wearing. ‘It’s fine, Halmony1.’ She had come to think of the lady as someone with the same status as her grandmother – even if she had never known her. ‘Is it, now?’ replied Grand-mother, matter-of-factly. SooYoung opened her mouth to confirm – but she started thinking about JongMin. He was in his late thirties, had a receding hairline and a small beer gut. He loved neat manicures and was adept of the ‘catapult’ position – hands crossed behind his head - , which she abhorred - it made him look arrogant.

Halmony means “Grandmother” in Korean.

‘Do you remember Eko, SooYoungsshi2?’ asked Grand-mother, stirring her away from her thoughts. *

Eko was her cat when she lived at Yangyang, by the sea, with her parents. He was a black cat with green eyes, and she loved him to bits. She had received that cat as a young child and had shared all her secrets with him. She had been immensely sad when he passed away, and even now, she sometimes wished she could bring him back. She had wanted another cat, but JongMin was allergic. ‘How do you know about Eko, Halmony?’ SooYoung was actually surprised of how quickly she picked up on the question. The old woman got up, straightened her back and shoulders – not being hunched suddenly made her appear taller – and looked SooYoung straight in the eye. ‘I am not your Grand-mother’ she said, enunciating all the words clearly. ‘You’re right. But who are you, then?’ The woman did not answer and made way for the door. *

SooYoung woke up to the sound of sleet softly tapping the window panes. Looking at the bright alarm clock on her side of the bed, she saw it was a few minutes past three. She left JongMin in bed, happily snoring, and went to the kitchen. Her green tea brewing, she sat at the table and reflected upon her dreams. The baby and the old woman were linked somehow. She failed to see the big picture, but was certain there was a message hidden in those dreams – she had always enjoyed analysing them. She grabbed her cup and went to the living-room. She took a good look around: the apartment was uncluttered and appeared much bigger than it really was. She observed their possessions - a giant TV screen (one of the numerous hi-tech gadgets her husband had); a small glass cabinet full of trophies she had won when she was running for her high school competitions. She hadn’t been able to race anymore after an injury, but still jogged three times a week and kept a healthy diet.

Sshi is an honorable form, like “Miss”.

Faint traces of her were spread around the room: crocheting, flower arrangement, embroidery. She even enjoyed making some of her clothes herself – she liked garments that were original, while traditional in their design. She even wished she’d stayed at uni for a couple more years and finished studying tailoring – she could have had her own shop by now and be more independent financially. But she had met JongMin, and he was offered a pretty cushy job. He had promised to take care of everything – and he did. Lost in her thoughts, sipping her tea, SooYoung almost failed to hear that somebody was gently tapping at the door. When she opened it, she thought for a moment that she was still dreaming. Standing in the doorway was herself. Dressed in a vividly red hanbok3, she looked radiant, peaceful… and a little bit older. Her hair was trimmed, although still long, and she was wearing a classy yet discreet hair clip. She inclined her head as though asking if she could come in. SooYoung smiled faintly, bowed lightly, and moved sideways to let her pass. The older SooYoung smelt of sweet jasmine and the ocean. Immediately, she remembered her childhood spent in Yangyang; carefree, lazy days at the beach. She had missed the sea so much since she had moved in with JongMin. Its colour, its scent, its texture. The way the sun shone and reflected on it. The loud jokes of the fishermen going out to sea. JongMin and her only spent two weeks at the beach each year, and it was always some fashionable place teeming with tourists. It wore her out. She sat down and vaguely wished she was sporting something more becoming than pyjamas. She suddenly also realised who the baby and the old woman were. It all fitted together. She looked at the dress the other SooYoung was wearing: it definitely had her own personal touch to it. She read into her face and noticed she looked more confident – and there was no wedding ring on her finger.

A hanbok is a traditional Korean dress.

They remained silent for a long time, the older SooYoung patiently waiting for the younger SooYoung to work things out for herself. It didn’t feel awkward though. Engrossed in her thoughts, SooYoung completely forgot to offer a drink to her ‘guest’. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the salty scent of the sea permeated the room. She could hear the Midnight Sonata – her favourite song – playing in the background. She could smell seaweed, sand, and feel a warm breeze across her face. She could even picture her humble little shop, red with green lettering. She turned around and the old SooYoung had vanished. But she smiled to herself, and knew what she had to do. The sea was calling out to her.

Pt 2 - Asleep

The sun was high. Jiwon was glad to surprise his wife at work - he had thought about it a lot. This time, he had managed to leave a bit early for lunch and had rushed off to get her favourite. She would be so happy! She was working this crabby office job that was driving her exhausted and wasn’t giving her anything in return. It seemed she was spending all her free time sleeping. He had been wanting her to find a new job. He went to the front desk and gave his name. The receptionist shook her head apologetically when he mentioned his wife. “That name is not in our database.” “Pardon?” “It says here she left two months ago.” “...But where did she go?” “I’m afraid we don’t know.” He left the building slowly, almost in shock. The take-away was getting colder now. He climbed in the car. Where could she be? Why didn’t she tell him about quitting this job? Had she found another job, and if so, what kind of work could make her so tired every day? *

When Chanyoung was fifteen, her twin sister Young-Ha drowned to her death in a nearby pond. How she had ended up there was never quite accounted for. It didn’t really matter in the long run - she was gone, and nothing could change that. Chanyoung had always felt guilty of losing her, for she had been sleeping when the accident occurred. Both their parents had gone to work, and the girls had been left alone on a hot summer’s day. Since then, she had had trouble sleeping, dealing with frequent bouts of insomnia. When she did sleep, she’d usually get nightmares or even be prone to sleepwalk. She had woken up with bruises so often that she was not paying attention to them anymore. When Jiwon met her, she had been on sleeping pills and anti-depressants for a couple of years. *

He had tried calling several times, unsuccessfully. He was dead worried - that feeling erased any pangs of hunger he previously had. 8

She could be at home - plausible, since she always greeted him (she supposedly got off work before he did)... But the anniversary of her sister’s death was looming. Neither of them had mentioned it; yet they were both aware of it. He had a feeling he would not see her at home that night. He called his workplace, explaining he had an emergency (which was kind of the case) without giving away any further details. Then he stepped on the gas and headed in direction of the cemetery, which was located not too far from Chanyoung’s family house, a kilometre outside of Seoul. *

She had stopped taking her medicine over a period of time. She was always feeling tired anyway, on or off of it. She disliked the way it made her feel - like a zombie, incomplete. As though she was always floating at the surface of things without immersing in them fully. She had not got any nightmares but never had any dreams either. The suicidal thoughts had disappeared… but not her guilt. She had interrupted her treatment and had also resigned from her job. Neither of those things she had disclosed to her husband - not out of fear or being misjudged, but because she could not find the words to explain the situation. She would just continue the masquerade - she was so exhausted anyway it wasn’t hard to do so. Every weekend was spent in bed most of the time. It seemed the more she slept, the more she wanted to sleep. A never-ending cycle. She had then started sleeping more ‘naturally’ - looking up herbal remedies and recipes. But every time she had found herself drifting into sleep, she had been woken up by the sound of water. Dripping water. Then one night, she had got up and checked where the noise was coming from, as it was not raining. She had proceeded to go around all the taps - kitchen, en-suite, shower… nothing. She had crawled back to bed in a daze. The sound was still there, this time seemingly closer. When Chanyoung looked a second time, she realised. Her fifteen year old twin sister was at the foot of the bed, still dripping wet from drowning. She was staring at her in a neutral way, looking neither angry nor sad. Chanyoung had been taken aback at first… but she had not felt scared. It was a relief, actually. Even though they were identical twins, she had missed her sister’s face. She had wanted to see her so badly. She had wondered many times what her sister would 9

be like, had she had a chance to remain alive. What kind of job would she have had? Would she own a cat like they did when they were younger? She had imagined this alternative reality where her sister was forever fifteen, running free, without a care in the world. Then, the night before, after all those years of diving deep into sleep and blacking out, she had finally had a dream. In that dream, she was sleeping. She was fifteen years old again, in her room, with her cat Eko snoozing beside her. It was a beautiful summer day, with a slight breeze gently pushing sparse clouds along. She woke up, in her dream, to see a bunch of letters flying in from the open window. It was such a breathtaking scene to witness the characters floating to the floor like snowflakes. Eventually, all the lines and shapes got rearranged to form a name - Young-Ha. She had woken up at precisely that moment. But she did not feel sad - quite the opposite. It had left her with a comforting, almost hopeful, feeling. *

On the way to the cemetery, Jiwon grew increasingly worried. He was beating himself up for not paying close enough attention to the signs. He had known something was off, without quite being able to put his finger on it - but then again, when had things ever felt completely right? He suddenly remembered Chanyoung complaining about the long, hot summer days, and how much she missed winter and snow. She had acted as though she had been on some sort of tranceâ&#x20AC;Ś or falling in a state of hibernation. Still there, but not present, seemingly close, but glassy-eyed, her spirit drifting away from his, without him being able to do anything about it. He could tell she still loved him, but she was out of his reach. He had tried talking to her, but every time, she had either fallen asleep or had found something to occupy herself with. He had started losing hopeâ&#x20AC;Ś and now, knowing she had lied to him on top of everything else had hammered the last nail in the coffin... so to speak. It was hurdle after hurdle. All the red lights he got seemed to last forever; the traffic turned slowerâ&#x20AC;Ś then it started raining. He felt that even the elements were fighting against him. And all the while, an increasingly worrying question kept gnawing at his soul. *

* 10

Her dream had only one meaning to her - she had to go and see her sister. This time, without any feeling of fear, remorse, or guilt. She was strangely freed from all of that. She felt light-headed. Her only desire and goal were to be by her sister’s side. She had moved as if in a dream - it had felt like watching someone else. She was floating, again. She didn’t remember anything she had seen or done, as though she had blacked-out. Yet, she had not missed a single connection. Everything had gone smoothly. She was also not feeling any hunger or thirst. However, she stopped at the mart to get two bottles of soju, plus one chocolate soy milk - her sister’s favourite drink when she was a teenager. She had then proceeded to slowly walk to the cemetery. She took the time to go up the steps and feel the grass and stones under her feet. She crossed the rows and lines of deceased. No-one was there but her. She spotted her sister’s grave and respectfully sat in front of it. She felt relieved, like she had arrived at the end of a long quest. Now, she could die at any moment - and it was incredibly liberating. She placed the chocolate soy milk at the head of the grave, then opened a bottle of soju and poured its contents all around the tombstone. She then opened the second bottle and started to timidly sip it - she had never been a big drinker. It was then that, after having increasingly darkened, the heavens suddenly opened up. The unexpectedness and intensity of it surprised her so much she started laughing her head off. Then she turned around and saw, wet and out-of-breath, her husband staring at her in utter bewilderment. *

He lunged forward and took her in his arms. “How...?” was all she managed to say. They remained silent. Then, after a while, he faced her. “I freaked out. I went to your workplace…” Chanyoung lowered her head, and gently placed it on her husband’s chest. She could hear his heartbeat... and it was as if her own heart was beating anew. Jiwon started sobbing. “I had this feeling… I was afraid I would never see you again. You’ve turned into a living ghost recently. It was just so painful to watch…” 11

“I’m still here”, she whispered. “...And I am so grateful for that”, exhaled Jiwon, returning her whisper. Chanyoung looked around. Her sister was standing at the head of the grave, looking at her warmly and smiling. She waved at her. Chanyoung bowed her head almost imperceptibly. Her sister faded away. She firmly took her husband’s arm and they started walking towards their car. The rain had started to calm down. They were both drenched, but they really didn’t care at that point. “My sister’s been gone for a while...” she added, finally breaking the silence, “But now, it’s my turn to live.” Jiwon stopped to stare at her in surprise. Chanyoung had a sparkle in her eye and looked fiercely, fearlessly present. He felt an incredible weight being lifted off his shoulders. He leaned over and kissed his wife on the forehead.

Pt 3 - At the Lake

She had been going back and forth to her new house for the past two weeks. After work, at weekends; it seemed she had done nothing but drive, following the long winding road like one would follow the course of a river. It was getting dark; the days were now short and cold; the leaves sparse; the grass yellow and orange. Sitting very straight in her seat, Tae-Hee vaguely paid attention to the road; the trip had now become a routine. Furthermore, she was alone on that country road – her current dwelling was tucked away in the woods. She had with her the last of her boxes: tonight, she would sleep in her new bed, in her new house. That was it. Her former house had been sold – it had become too big for her. All her husband’s clothes had been given to charities, the rest to the Salvation Army or just thrown away. She wanted to start a new life somewhere different. She’d got tired of living in the city. After losing Ujin, it had seemed too boisterous, too garish, too draining. She had tried dedicating herself to her work, but both her boss and her doctor had told her to slow down and take some time off. She had now a few weeks to get used to her new surroundings. They were right, and she knew it too. She could feel in her body the need to be on her own and look after herself. She had even started avoiding her friends, although she had always been one to socialise. All Tae-Hee wanted was peace. She needed to work things out and let her wounds heal. *

Living without her husband had been a trial. She thought she would go crazy. But she didn’t. She thought about getting out of the country, having countless flings. She did neither. She spent quite a few sleepless nights. She was resentful. But, eventually, she knew she had to move on. She had never been shy about wearing bright colours, but recently, she started feeling better clad entirely in black. She felt inconspicuous, hidden. That suited her perfectly – she wanted to be forgotten. She had decided to visit Ujin’s grave every Friday after work. She had made it a point to go there every week and pay her respects to the man she had loved for so many years, in such an unconditional way. She had realised she was more reliant on her husband than she had thought at first. Managing her newly-found ‘independence’ proved tough. 14

Tae-Hee looked at her hands, her wedding ring still on her finger. She had been a dedicated nail-biter for years, but that wasn’t what she was looking at. A couple years earlier, she had broken her right wrist; she had since developed arthritis in her hand. Over time, the arthritis had begun to creep up in her left hand as well. It was surprising, as she was only thirty-five, but not impossible. Most of the time, she could deal with it, pop a pill and keep typing; but that night, the pain was so intense that she had to pull up on the side of the road. *

She got out of the car and noticed a shrine she had never seen before, even though she had driven up and down that road dozens of times. She was even more surprised to discover a lake nearby, despite the fog hovering over it and almost hiding it from view. She worked as a PA in a big water company, and she was certain that lake didn’t exist on any report or map they had - they weren’t even any signs around it. Tae-Hee also observed the small shrine (actually two pillars and a roof) looked old and abandoned. A rice cake had been left there after a ceremony of some sort, possibly a funeral. She wished she had something to leave as well, but the only thing she could do was pray. Buddha looked at her with an enigmatic smile. She felt strongly attracted by the lake. It fascinated and mesmerised her. It was pure serendipity that she’d found it, especially with all the fog. Night had fallen quickly. She let her senses guide her. The crickets chirping, water lapping; the wind blowing and whistling in the bamboo shoots sounded like the daegum4 her husband used to play in the orchestra. The smell of wet grass, water-lilies and the earth at night filled her nostrils. It seemed she could almost smell her late husband’s cologne - a mixture of aloe and eucalyptus. At first, her senses were submerged – the noises were echoing and responding to each other. But, after a short period of confusion, her brain started differentiating every little detail, each of them harmonising with and completing one another.

A daegum is a Korean wind instrument, much like a flute.

Now her eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness; she could see she was at the very edge of the lake; little fireflies were flying all around her and over the water. There were a great deal of them; the sight was almost dream-like. Proud and haughty, the lotus flowers were floating away, never to fade, never to lose their charms. Drizzle started to fall; everything was toned down, almost to a standstill. Tae-Hee was soothed. The wind was stroking her hair, wrapping itself around her like a cat, whispering in her ear, breathing between the branches of the trees. She thought she could see herself floating. She closed her eyes. There was something in the air similar to the atmosphere before a typhoon. Nature was suddenly hushed, as though covered in snow. *

She opened her eyes again and realised at that moment that she had entered the water. But she didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t panic; instead, she embraced it. It was meant to be. She knew she had been deceiving herself all along. She had arrived at the end of the line. She started thinking of the fish tank she had as a child. Sheâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d spend hours watching her goldfish swim about - and keeping her cat Eko from attacking it. It also reminded her of the desire she had of having a child with her husband. Now it was too late. Everything around her was purple, grey and green. Hiding behind the heavy clouds, the moon looked like a watercolour painting. Tae-Hee took a deep breath, the scent of nature intoxicating her once again. She could hear the crickets chirping and feel the waterlilies under her fingers. Then everything turned black.

Janeczka Dabrowski is a well-rounded weirdo. Into writing, music, videos, painting, photography, and a lot of other things that would make this list way too long. You can find her by following the links below:

YouTube http://www.youtube.com/user/janeczka SoundCloud https://soundcloud.com/janeczka FaceBook https://www.facebook.com/Janeczka.D/ Instagram https://www.instagram.com/janeczkadabrowski/

All artwork - Janeczka Dabrowski 2011-2016