Chapter 6

It was already a tiring day and Jungsik had no idea why he stopped by a playground where he always used to play with his friends when he was a little kid. He traced his eyes through the empty silent playground. The swings hanging down freely still, with no one to swing them, the slides covering with snow, the seesaw with its one end bending down freely, must be lonely to have no one to be pushed up from the elevated another end.

It was snowing, it was cold but not anymore when a soft, small but warm hand grabbed his cold hand from behind. He turned to see a little girl with a familiar yet unrecognizable face smiling at him.

He sure know the face was familiar but still couldn't see it cleary, and he found everything blurred all of a sudden, he couldn't recognize her anymore but he still stared at her, so as the girl but she tried to let go of his hand from his tight grip and ran away, far away till she disappeared.

He stared at his hand, missing the warmth it felt when the small soft hand held it. He looked around and everything around him turned into darkness, his hands started freezing, but he still ran, hoping he would still find the warm hand to make his cold disappear.

"NO! Please... Please don't go! Please come back!"

But all he could hear was his own voice screaming in the dark. He plopped down to the cold grass panting hard with heavy breaths when his legs finally gave up.

"Please don't leave me. Please..." he mumbled in between his tears. He was sweating but still felt cold. He shut eyes closed tightly and tried to get himself up from the cold ground.

Then he suddenly throw himself up and opened his eyes forcefully just to find himself on his own bed in his room.

He breathed heavily. He could feel his eyes wet with tears and forehead with sweat. He quickly turned on the table lamp and checked the time. It was only 3 am.

That's when he realized,

"It was the nightmare... again."

He sighed.

Again. Yeah. Jungsik struggles himself almost every night with the same nightmare, which he don't even remember when it started. But he never showed this side of him to anyone, not even to his parents. He didn't want them to get tensed and worried about him.

He sees the same face everytime he had a nightmare, the face he could never recognize. All he could feel is the warmth from the soft little hand that always give him comfort.

He would either see himself leaving the kid behind or the kid leaving him. But he still can't figure out whether he don't know or can't remember who the kid actually is. All he know is there's always some kind of comfort and he feel himself safe whenever the kid grab his hand in his dream.

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Jungsik tried to sleep again but couldn't and it was already morning. He got up to get ready for his work and found his mother making breakfast for him when he came downstairs.

She smiled when she noticed him, "why are you up so early today? Your breakfast is not even ready yet. Or... am I late?"

"No... um... I couldn-- I woke up early because I have some works in the company," he smiled and sat on chair by the dining table, "but mom, uhh... did you see what I kept in your table yesterday?"

"Ah, that flower? Of course yes... I was about to thank you when you wake up. Thank you. The flowers were so beautiful," she smiled.

"That... um... Mom... I'm really sorry. I didn't wish for you birthday yesterday. It was already late when I get back home. I didn't want to disturb you by waking you up on the middle of the night from your sweet sleep. I was--"

"Aw dear, it's ok, hmm? You being my son is the greatest gift I could have," she said, noticing the sadness on her son's face, "and, I really love the flowers you gave me. My son is even good in choosing flowers."

"Actually... I didn't choose the flower myself. It's the florist of that flower shop where I bought them. She explained the meaning about that flower and helped me choose it. She said it would be a perfect flower for giving to mother," a slight red tinted over his cheeks when he remember the person who explained him about the flower.

"Ah, is that so?" she nodded, "but still, thank you. I love the gift," she smiled, keeping the plate in front of him with his favourite pancakes.

"Then, she must be very passionate with flowers that she even knows the meaning of flowers very well," she added as she turned away.

"She is," he uttered under his breaths.

"Hmm? You said something?" his mother turned her face back to her son who just shook his head.

"Ah, nothing. The pancakes are so good today."

"Is that so? Do you want more?"

"Yes please," he smiled at her.

But the smile rose up again on his face when the memory of the person flashed on the back of his mind and the only he could think of was,

"But she looked more beautiful than those flowers."