The Girl Who Burned for Nothing – Chapter 158: Father’s Name

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# Chapter 158: Father’s Name

Mother closed her mouth. The silence flowed out like water. Sae-ah was breathing within that silence. Like a deep-sea diver. Or more precisely, like her mother. Underwater. In a space without oxygen.

“Your father was afraid of your voice.”

Mother’s final words continued echoing. It wasn’t a sentence—it was a curse. Or a truth. Sae-ah didn’t know the difference between the two.

The fluorescent light flickered. One second. In that interval, Sae-ah’s brain was already processing dozens of things. Father. That word. That man. That existence. Sae-ah had never seen her father. Or perhaps she had, once. But there was no face in her memory. Only shadows. Or feelings. Fear. Running. And mother’s tears.

“Mom, I…”

Sae-ah opened her mouth. But there was nothing after that. What should she ask? Her father’s name? Where he was? Or why mother was saying this now, in this moment?

Mother slowly raised the hospital bed. Ignoring the angle the medical staff had adjusted. Lifting her own body higher. As if she believed she had to rise further to speak these words.

“You saw Do-hyun, didn’t you?”

Mother asked.

“What did he say to you?”

Sae-ah said nothing. Do-hyun’s anger. It remained inside her body. Like radiation. Slowly destroying her cells.

“He must have told you. That he doesn’t understand what you’re doing. That you look like you’re trying to kill yourself.”

Mother’s voice trembled. But it was a different kind of trembling than before. Not weakness, but resolve. Like the trembling of someone who has made a decision.

“I’m going to tell you why. Why you keep doing this. Why you keep walking into the fire.”

Mother gripped Sae-ah’s hand again. This time harder. Almost painfully.

“You’re running from your father. You don’t know it, but you’re running from him. Constantly.”

“What are you…”

Sae-ah spoke. Her voice was barely a whisper.

“Your father wanted to erase you. Your voice. Your existence. So he wanted you to be a child without confidence. He thought you needed to be quiet. He thought you needed to stay still.”

Tears streamed down mother’s face. But she didn’t wipe them. As if the tears were part of her words.

“So I took you away. To Jeju. I thought you could be free there. I thought you could sing there.”

“Then why…”

Sae-ah asked.

“Why do I keep doing this?”

Mother looked at Sae-ah’s face for a long time. As if searching for something inside it.

“Because your father is inside you.”

That statement pierced Sae-ah’s chest. It physically hurt. Like a hand reaching into her chest and tearing it apart.

“Your father is inside you. His voice is. His fear is. His self-hatred is.”

Mother continued.

“You’re doing to yourself what he wanted to do to you. You’re trying to erase your own voice. You’re trying to erase your own existence. And in the process, you find people like Kang Ri-u.”

“No…”

Sae-ah said. But her voice lacked conviction.

“Kang Ri-u is…”

“What is Kang Ri-u to you?”

Mother asked.

“Did he save you? Or is he just making you repeat the same pattern over and over?”

Sae-ah couldn’t answer. Because she already knew the answer to that question.

The heart monitor in the hospital room moved irregularly again. Beep-beep, beep-beep-beep. The kind of rhythm that would bring medical staff running. But they didn’t come. Perhaps they’d already decided it was within normal range. This family’s stress was within manageable limits. Within the range the medical system could handle.

“You don’t know what you’re doing.”

Mother said.

“You’re caught in the same vicious cycle. You’re running from your father while acting like him. You’re trying to lose your voice while giving it to someone else.”

Mother’s grip on Sae-ah’s hand tightened.

“And now look at the result. You’re falling apart. Do-hyun is falling apart. I’m falling apart. We’re all falling apart because of you.”

In that moment, Sae-ah’s body moved. Automatically. As if controlled by some external force. She got up from the bed. Or more precisely, she knelt on it. Before her mother. Like she was begging. Like she was denying her own existence.

“I’m sorry…”

Sae-ah’s voice came out. But it wasn’t her own voice. Or it was, but it came from a part she couldn’t control. The part her father left behind. The father inside her.

“Sorry for what?”

Mother asked.

“What good is saying sorry? You’re not the one who should apologize.”

“Then what am I…”

Sae-ah asked.

“What am I…?”

It was the same question Do-hyun had thrown at her. But this time there was no answer. This time neither mother nor Sae-ah knew. Who was Sae-ah? What was she? Her father’s daughter? Her mother’s daughter? Do-hyun’s sister? Something of Kang Ri-u’s?

Mother pulled Sae-ah’s head to her chest. Like soothing a very small child. Sae-ah began to cry there. But no tears came. Her body just trembled. Like a machine. Like her father’s hand was moving her spine.

“There’s one more thing I need to tell you.”

After several minutes, mother spoke. Her voice no longer held anger. It was exhausted. Despairing. But at the same time, it was the voice of someone who had made a decision.

“You need to understand that your father is nobody. You need to forgive him. Or more precisely, you need to let him go.”

Sae-ah looked at mother. Her eyes were still filled with tears. But there was something in them. Strength. Or more precisely, despair wearing the mask of strength. But that despair had already reached its limit. So it had no choice but to become strength.

“If you can’t let go of your father, you’ll keep looking for men like him. You’ll keep destroying yourself. You’ll keep walking into the fire. And someday you’ll burn up in it.”

Mother’s hand lifted Sae-ah’s face. Not forcefully, but gently. As if Sae-ah were truly a very small child.

“I already did that. I lived with a man like your father. I couldn’t let him go, so I even had Do-hyun. I destroyed myself. And you’re walking the same path.”

Sae-ah opened her mouth and closed it. The motion repeated. Like she was trying to eat something with her mouth, but it was too big to fit.

“You don’t need to know your father’s name.”

Mother said.

“You don’t need to see his face. You just need to let him go. The father inside you. The father who controls you. The father who makes you afraid.”

Mother’s voice grew quieter. Like a whisper. Like this was the most important thing she would ever say.

“And you need to let go of Kang Ri-u. You’re not looking for someone to save you—you’re looking for someone to destroy you. You need to understand that.”

Sae-ah met mother’s eyes. In them was everything. Her own life. Her own pain. Her own failure. And her own love. Mother loved Sae-ah. But that love was destructive too. Because mother didn’t know what she was doing either.

“Mom…”

Sae-ah said.

“I…”

There was nothing after that. Sae-ah didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what to feel. Didn’t know who she was. Not her father’s daughter. Not something of Kang Ri-u’s. Not Do-hyun’s sister. Not her mother’s daughter.

Just someone. Someone burning in the fire. And now she knew it. That was the most important realization.

The fluorescent light in the hospital room continued to flicker. One second, two seconds, three seconds. And the light returns. In between, Sae-ah was still there. Existed. Even if she didn’t know who she was, what she was. She simply existed.

“You just need to be here.”

Mother said.

“For now, you just need to be here. Think about the rest later.”

Sae-ah nodded. Instead of speaking. Because she couldn’t speak now. Or more precisely, she didn’t want to. Because if she heard her own voice, she would hear the father inside it.

Mother lowered the bed again. Slowly. Sae-ah with her. Like they were one body. Or perhaps they already were. In the name of family. In the name of shared pain.

The fluorescent light continued to flicker. One second, two seconds, three seconds. Sae-ah was counting it. As if it were her only job. Light and darkness. Existence and absence. Living between them.

And someday that flickering would stop. Or Sae-ah would be able to ignore it. Or Sae-ah herself would become light or darkness.

But not now.

For now there was only waiting.


Time: 11:47 PM

In the corridor, Do-hyun was still standing. His back against the wall. Picking up and putting down his phone. There was no one to call. His father was gone. His sister was with mother now. Mother was with his sister.

Do-hyun was alone.

And he understood that this was the most terrifying thing.


End of Chapter 158

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