"Why is it so hard?" Silence seeps through the crevices of the void; not a space left untouched. The surroundings speak of the sky: pure white and hues of blue. Words spoken shatter the glass of a deafening quiet, permeating like a choir of angels harmonizing hymns. Oddly beautiful. "Why do I try so hard to lead an honest life if people are going to break me down anyway. Is it worth it? Is it worth fighting? Should I give up?"
Each direction her head turns toward, her body follows. What way was left? What was right? Up or down? Everything was identical. There were no doors, no portals, no giant exit sign, no ledge. Just open space. Is this what being trapped in your own mind feels like? "Someone answer me...please. I'm lost...I'm so lost..." The tremble in her voice wasn't the only thing slowly breaking, as were she. The steadiness in her knees gives way and Woori finds herself falling to them. Onto, something pillow-y, something like a cloud. Head hung and confidence depleted, sounds of suppressed sobs replace the lightness of the voice that once spoke. The air whistles in the form of a breeze, caressing the chocolate locks that cascade the pearl-esque tears streaming down flesh of ivory
"Up." A familiar voice envelopes the woman whose adversities weigh so heavy on shoulders it had finally brought her to her knees. "Get up, Choi Woori." Familiarity embraces Woori further and to her feet, it moves her. Frantic, her eyes dart about in search of her-- "Grandma? Grandma, where are you?" The tone of her voice expresses plead; begging, if you will. Desperate pools of mocha search for a figure that wasn't present or obvious enough to catch. "Stop and listen." It was unbelievable how much nothing had change. She sounded exactly as the young woman remembered her; shaky yet lilting. A voice that wraps arms around and squeezes you into a tender, loving hug. Delightful.
Recalling the relatives existence constricts her lungs, choking back cries. "Listen to me. You were given a tough battle because you are a tough soldier. Our Daffodil. Our flower that appears gentle but bares petals of steel. A stalk as strong as metal and leaves that guard a heart of gold. Woori, you are stronger than you think you are. I understand things get hard. I know. I watch you. I've seen you fall but every, single time, I have witnessed you get back up stronger than you were before. Giving up is not something you are capable of....because you are special. Because you're as bright as a daffodil. You equate to the sun and the world needs you like they need the sun, Daff. The world needs that brightness you exude. The world needs you to conquer your obstacles and persevere. You don't realize the many, many daffodils that you've spawned just because of you being you. Woori, hang in there. You are strong and you are not alone." Her chest heaves as words of reassurance penetrate an aching heart. She clutches a fist at her bosom not wanting to lose the chance to communicate with the late, loved one. "I want to see you. Please. I need to see you, Grandma." The short haired girl never ceases combing the area with anxious eyes and urges for more time. "I'm always with you, Daff. Always."
The crisp scent of magazine pages flipping, lingers beneath Woori's nose, stirring the napping girl from the unplanned slumber. A cupped hand rubs against damp eyes assisting with the adjustment back to reality. "Ah...I fell asleep." A casual afternoon on the balcony somehow ended with dozing off. The wind whistle. Turning the papers, yet again, of the gazette settled in her lap. The hiss from the breeze resonates with the brunette, compelling her to look down at the sheets. An amused scoff parts her lips as her eyes are met with an ad of what appeared to be an elderly woman gifting a young girl daffodils at a graduation. Fingers lightly dust the cover and a tear stains her skin. "I won't give up, Grandma. I promise. I love you." Sighing heavily, the book is set aside and arms line the spine of the sofa as the wind lightly kisses her cheek.
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