Guardian

Hello darkness my old friend

I woke up abruptly. That was bizarre, I thought to myself, looking around my big but cramped room, full of cookbooks, anthologies, and old game consoles. I sat back in my bed and stared out the window, trying to fall asleep, but also thinking. Thinking about Umma. Is she okay? Is this fantasy of her coming back home ever gonna actually happen?

I rolled over in my bed, pulling the covers over my head. I try not to think about Umma. Not during the day, anyways. It hurts me too much to think about her disappearance 9 years ago. Would a mother really abandon her 2 kids, both at 5 years old? It’s a question I ask myself a lot. After a while, though, I gave up hope. I’m rustled out of my deep thoughts when I hear another voice, this time in Korean.

Are you deaf? I know you can hear me, stop ignoring me.

I jumped and looked around my room. Right in front of me, sitting in my desk chair, was a dark, anonymous, humanoid figure. I screamed and then stopped, realizing that my father might wake up.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” I snapped, looking around my dark room for a possible weapon.

Relax, I’m your guardian.

I blinked. “Huh?”

Has your Umma not told you?

My eyes filled with tears at the mention of my mom, as I said, “My mom disappeared when I was 5. I haven’t seen her since.” I replied in my now trembling but fluent Korean.

Ah, I see. I’m really sorry that happened. Is your father here?

“Yeah, but can you not see it’s 2 in the morning? Everyone else is sleeping. What was my mother supposed to tell me, anyway?”

Ask your father when it becomes day.

I sat up in my bed and reached on my nightstand for my LED light remote. I turned the color purple and set the remote back down.

Is this an American trend? To have color-changing lights?

I rolled my eyes and said, “So, about this guardian thing, can you just tell me real quick?”

The so-called guardian cleared its throat and began. Every second girl born into a family gets a guardian. The guardian guides them through life. Pretty self explanatory. In other words, like your semi-invisible best friend.

I nod at this. You wanna know something?

“What is it?” I ask.

Your mother is one of them.
 

Summit House-WCS

VT

YWP Instructor