Mysme-Fictober Day 5 AND Day 1 of Jumin Han Week
October 5th 2019
Skeletons in the Closet in combination with @juminweek2019 Happy Birthday/Family
Jumin adjusted his tie and buttoned his grey suit jacket as he got out of the car. He stood, grey eyes forward for a few minutes before he glanced upwards to the highest window in the large family home. The attic. Nothing moved behind the dark curtains, but he clenched his jaw, bile attempting to rise. Though he didn’t like to admit it, there was always something about the attic that frightened him. He swallowed painfully, took a long deep breath and climbed the steps to the front door.
It opened before he reached it. The butler nodded to him and welcomed him home. Jumin nodded back and walked through the threshold, his stomach dropping at the thought of having to meet another one of his father’s women, especially on his birthday.
“Your father is waiting for you in the study young master.”
“Thank you Tae.”
“Would you like something to drink?” “Wine would be delightful.”
“As you wish, I believe there are several bottles in the wine cellar that you left when you moved out, is there a particular year you desire?”
“Not at all, anything you grab should be sufficient, and Tae…” Jumin turned to the shorter older man, “…leave the bottle.”
“Of course.” Tae bowed once more and left Jumin in the vast entryway. He kneaded his temples; sure it was going to be an agonizing evening. Unable to stall any longer, he made his way to his father’s study. The doors were closed, and he could hear a woman’s high-pitched giggle through the thick wood. His fingers twitched as his hands closed around the doorknobs, but he did not give himself time to procrastinate any longer. In one long motion he turned the handles and opened the doors.
He rolled his eyes as the dark-haired woman jumped up from his father’s lap and adjusted her clothes modestly.
“Father.” Jumin acknowledged, making his way into the room and taking a position on one of the leather sofa’s opposite the older man. It was difficult to remain civil, over the years his father had made some mistakes when it came to women, but he had always been a good father, his birthday always a day they shared together, at least for a few hours. Now, he brought this woman into their private time. It irritated him, but he would not let his father see him agitated.
“Jumin! My love, this is my son. Jumin please welcome my fiancé Rose.” He stood and took the woman’s hand, leading her to stand in front of his son.
“Father please…” Jumin began, unable to look at the woman.
“Don’t act this way Jumin, the least you can do is be polite.” The older man’s lips thinned out as he looked down at his son.
“Certainly.” Jumin stood and bowed to the woman, showing as much respect as he could muster, which wasn’t much. However, he did not want to get into a fight with his father on this day. “Will you be joining us for dinner?” he politely asked.
“Yes, oh my, you are certainly more handsome in person than you appear in the papers. Although, you would look much more handsome if you smiled.” The woman trilled. Mr. Han laughed at his fiance’s trite banter.
“You’re wine sir.” Tae entered with a trolley, on which sat an ice bucket with an open bottle of wine inside. “Shall I pour?”
“No thank you, I’ll do it myself.” Jumin suspected he would need the whole bottle and then some to get through the evening.
“Oh my, could I have a glass too? It looks delicious.” She batted her eyes at Jumin and bit her lower lip. The woman was much too young for his father and obviously only wanted one thing, but Jumin had learned long ago not to interfere with his father’s dalliances. This woman would not last long either, he only hoped his father would come to his senses before he actually married her.
“Ah, certainly.” Jumin poured the woman a glass and her fingers lingered too long as he passed her the glass. His stomach roiled once more, and he excused himself unable to stomach anymore civility. “I’m going to freshen up before dinner father, I shall meet you in the dining room when it’s ready.” He took his glass and his leave.
Making his way up the winding staircase he passed his room and just kept going up to the third floor. He rarely had reason to be so high, even as a kid. He was never curious either, his mind was always too occupied by other things. V had badgered him incessantly a few times to roam around up there but even then, Jumin never wanted to get too close to the attic stairs. V had teased him, asking what it was he was afraid of. They had tried once to go up but had been caught by his father and admonished vehemently. Mr. Han had warned them that it was dangerous up there since it did not have a real floor but only beams and insulation. No matter how V pestered him after that, Jumin flat out refused to return. Eventually his friend had dropped it.
Without any thought, Jumin found himself at the bottom of those stairs now. He set his empty glass on the bottom step and began to climb. There was a dread that filled him, and he wondered at it. Something in his head was scratching to get out. A memory, a thought, screaming for him to turn back. The wine dulled that sensation somewhat and Jumin was more curious than anything else, his mind latching on to anything else to forget what was waiting for him downstairs. Was it possible that he had indeed gone into the attic as a child and whatever happened in there had been bad enough for him to block out and never want to come back? He chuckled at that thought. Ridiculous, there had never been anything, not even in his childhood that had ever frightened him that much.
His hand reached out to the doorknob and he was surprised to see it shaking. His body began to tremble and sweat broke out across his skin. He pulled back and undid his suit jacket taking it off and folding it over the railing. He placed both his hands on it and bent over slightly, breathing heavily, trying to get himself under control.
A noise sounded on the other side of the door that made his head jerk upwards. What the hell was that? It had sounded as if something fell on a carpeted floor, but hadn’t his father said the attic had no floor? Breathing heavily, he pressed his ear to the door. Just as he was convincing himself there was nothing to hear, music began to play. It sounded as if it was from an old-style Victrola. The kind his mother used to always play. The record was old and scratchy. A soft female hum joined the music and Jumin was so startled, he backpedaled and almost fell down the stairs. His gasp was loud as he slapped his hand onto the railing to catch himself.
On the other side of the door, all noise stopped, as if the room had suddenly stopped breathing. Once he had gotten himself under control, he tried to open the door. It was locked. He yanked on it desperately, whatever was on the other side suddenly seemed more important than anything else in his life.
“Sir!” Tae’s voice sounded from the bottom of the stairs, but Jumin still frantically pulled on the door. Footsteps were running up the stairs and Jumin knew he had to get in, had to see what/who was on the other side. A silhouette flashed through his mind, a woman dressed in black crying, vanishing from his sight. He yanked and yanked, kicking at the door, hoping to break it down.
“Jumin! No!” his father’s voice sounded from a million miles away. Arms grabbed him but he fought back.
“NO!” he screamed scratching at the door, desperate to gain entry. He was pulled down by several hands, a woman he recognized as a newer maid reached into her pocket and produced a syringe. His eyes widened, what the hell was going on here? He lay on the floor at the bottom of the stairs, held to the ground. He kept fighting. His stormy grey eyes riveted to the door at the top of the stairs as it began to open.
“No! Mother! Mother!” he bellowed as the medication entered his system and his eyes became too heavy to hold open. The dark silhouette seemed to float towards him, but he never saw her face.
