A Taste to Spit Out - Chapter 2
“Hup…!”
I slipped my head into the knot and, with all my strength, kicked into the air. At that moment, thunder rumbled loudly.
In the flashing darkness, the last thing my fading eyes saw was the frail shadow of my body swaying with the rope, dangling from the ceiling.
And so, at the age of twenty-four, I hung myself and died.
* * *
By now, the entire country must be in an uproar. I wonder what the headlines are saying.
**[A dark shadow cast over a perfect chaebol family… Youngest son found hanged?]**
Father might very well collapse, clutching his neck.
A stain on his perfect life, like blood on pristine white. I was always the one treated worse than the family dog. Even after death, I’m still causing trouble for him, aren’t I?
Is that what they’ll think?
I was a bastard, the illegitimate child no one knew where I came from. Crawling through filthy back alleys, I suddenly emerged one day, out of nowhere.
When I first entered the house in Pyeongchang-dong, they couldn’t hide their disgust. Their faces looked as though they’d been smeared with filth. They looked at me the way you’d look at a pile of dung.
‘M-My mom told me to come here… that my dad’s here….’
Everything in that house was new, except for me. They recoiled in horror, desperate not to touch me, and yet, there was a reason they took in something so filthy.
I was an Omega.
But of all things, an infertile Omega. I couldn’t even be sold off in a marriage deal.
I was a complete outcast in that household. It’s funny, really. I was destined to die long ago, and now, I’ve gone and killed myself.
It’s time for me to go.
Yet, for some reason, I feel like my body is still floating, lingering somewhere.
What am I holding on to? What anchor is keeping me tethered, like a boat stuck at the dock?
Just then, my fingers twitched, trembling slightly. Slowly, very slowly, they curled inward, as if they were gripping a brush.
Ah, yes, I…
I wanted to paint. Just once, I wanted to freely paint the pictures I desired.
Those moments when I would run my fingers across the canvas, stroke the brush like it was an extension of myself, carefully select each color of paint as I steadied my breath.
Even when Father grabbed me by the hair and shoved my face into the toilet, even when my half-siblings spat into my bowl of food, or when my stepmother tore my paintings to shreds.
Just for those pathetic reasons alone… I clung to that house like a parasite, struggling to survive.
Even though I knew it would all end like this.
Just as the strength was slipping from my fingertips,
…flash, flash!
A lightning bolt split through the darkness in my mind. My body convulsed, as if fireworks were exploding inside me.
“The mother’s condition is…”
She’s critical.
Whose voice is this, and where is it coming from? A blinding light poured over me, like the seas parting before my eyes.
“The fetal heart rate is…”
Fetal? What fetus? In confusion, my fingers, which had been slowly losing their grip, twitched again. Something inside my belly tugged tightly.
“Hah, haaah…!”
I gasped, releasing the breath I’d been holding deep within me, thrashing wildly.
“Please, ma’am, you can’t have a seizure! You must stay absolutely calm!”
**Fetus?**
Fetus? Why? Why am I in a hospital? Why am I still alive? Why can’t I die? I wanted to ask, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t make a sound.
My stomach—my belly—kept tightening as though it was being wrenched by invisible hands. Trapped in a hell of agony, my body twisted and turned as if it were being torn apart.
Then it happened.
**Click, clack**—the sound of footsteps echoed from outside.
**Click, clack, click, clack.** The steps suddenly paused, but the ground seemed to rumble, like an earthquake, as if a storm was surging toward me.
Then came a loud **boom** as the hospital room door burst open. A violent gust of wind rushed in, like the aftermath of an explosion.
**Click, clack.** The footsteps entered the room. **Click, clack.** The closer they came, the more my anxiety spiked.
My lower abdomen tightened painfully, and my breath became erratic, heaving uncontrollably.
Why… why is this happening to me?
It felt as if something inside my belly was rejecting whatever was outside, fiercely resisting.
Who could this person be?