EP Chapter 1.2

Lights out in prison coincided with the time I’d usually start work on the outside. 7:30 pm. It was too early to sleep, but everyone in the cell was already spreading out their bedding. I lay down under the thin, scratchy blanket and stared at the moldy black ceiling.

After listening to the murderer… Im Jihoon, that is… talk for a while earlier, fragments of memories started surfacing. Memories of him, or maybe of other kids who lived similar lives… I wasn’t sure.

I’d been helping my father with his “business” since I was very young. My mother left before I started working for him, when I was so young I barely remember her. My father could have easily abandoned me since I was a burden. But I guess I wanted to earn my keep since he didn’t ditch me.

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Instead of going to school, I worked and lived at the gambling den, while my father drifted between the women gamblers. We didn’t see each other often, but we at least checked in on each other occasionally. Even if I resented him, he was the only one who cared whether I lived or died, so I worked for him.

Kids my age often came to the gambling den looking for their parents. I’d call their parents over for them, but I knew they wouldn’t come out, not quickly anyway. So I always gave those kids a Choco Pie¹. Im Jihoon was one of the kids who received a Choco Pie from me every day.

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‘Hyung, I like you, but I wish my dad would stop coming here.’

‘I wish I didn’t have to see you either, but just bear with it. People don’t change unless they die.’

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I recited the words I’d heard from my father and offered him the yogurt I’d been saving for myself. Thinking back, he was only a year younger than me, but I wanted to seem older and wiser in front of him. Maybe I wanted a younger brother.

Anyway, at fourteen, fifteen, while other kids our age were busy at school, we’d squat in a corner of the gambling den and chat about nothing. Countless people came and went through the gambling den. I used to tell Im Jihoon stories about them. And I even told him about my humble dream.

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‘You see those guys here calling those fancy ladies ‘noona’? The ones in expensive suits? The ladies who are always with them told me I’m handsome. So, I’m going to be like those guys someday. Wear nice clothes, leave this place with a rich lady. It’s better than just making instant coffee here.’

Damn, that’s why eighth-grade syndrome² is so scary. My dream was so pathetic I wanted to hide under the covers.

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[Let’s all spread our blankets and lie down, keeping the lesson of today’s story in our hearts. Think about what you did today…]

While the bedtime broadcast from the prison headquarters droned on, my cellmates seemed to have fallen asleep. Thankfully, no one snored loudly or ground their teeth.

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I turned over and saw the bedding next to me. Im Jihoon lay there, straight as a rod. A sliver of moonlight through the bars illuminated his face. Even with his eyes closed, he looked weary.

I’d achieved the dream I told Im Jihoon about earlier than I’d expected. If I’d known we’d meet again like this, I would have asked him about his dreams back then.

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My nineteenth year. My father was stabbed to death by gangsters. 

His nineteenth year. He killed his own father.

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I was in prison when my father died. The fact that there was no one left to even confirm his death made me feel truly alone in the world, yet a part of me felt relieved.

So, I wondered what Im Jihoon was thinking when he killed his father. I ended up in prison because of my choices, but was that what he wanted? If not, then I felt even more sorry for him.

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* * *

I drifted off to sleep without realizing it. I seemed to have slept deeply, without dreams, but at some point, I woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep. 

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My left chest felt hot and burning as if seared with a hot iron. It felt like I was submerged in a scalding hot bath, my breath catching in my throat. If that were the extent of the discomfort, I could have dismissed it as a cold and endured it. But I couldn’t. I sat up. The skin above my heart itched. Like someone was licking it with their tongue, or teasing it with a feather-light touch.

I pulled up my shirt and scratched the itchy area furiously. Every time my fingers grazed my skin, the scratches from my nails deepened, but I couldn’t stop. I scratched as if to stay alive. Then at some point, I was able to lie back down and drifted off to sleep again.

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“Hyung-nims! Wake up! Time to get up!”

The lackey yelled, pulling off the blankets of Fraud Man 1 and 2. Then he came over and yanked the blanket covering me off as well. I was going to get up anyway, but his blatant disregard for me made me scoff.

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He hadn’t woken the other two. I folded my blanket in half and asked him jokingly,

“Hey, I get not waking the leader, but why not Im Jihoon?”

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“You get hit if you wake him up. And… you should be careful too, hyung.”

You get hit even if you say his name too. The lackey whispered in my ear and walked to the bathroom. I stared blankly after him as I finished folding my blanket and the floor mat. Then, as I put the bedding away in the locker first, I burst out laughing.

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I’d always prided myself on my ability to read the room, but it seemed I’d lost my touch. I thought the cell leader was the one in charge, but apparently, the real boss in this cell was Im Jihoon.

But maybe this was better for me. Call it unfounded confidence, but I didn’t think Im Jihoon would hit me. After all, he was the one who acknowledged me first.

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I suddenly felt curious about him. For others to know his name, he must have told them himself. Why would he hit them then? It seemed like a pointless question, so I didn’t bother asking.

The lackey came out of the bathroom after a quick pee and wash. Fraud Man 1 and 2, demoted in the cell hierarchy due to my arrival, were hovering nearby, gauging my mood before using the bathroom for their turn. I gestured to them.

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“I’m still good. Go ahead and use it first.”

They bowed their heads slightly. Fraud man 1, the higher-ranking of the two, scurried into the bathroom. Even for me, it felt uncomfortable having men much older than me bowing their heads towards me. I considered telling them they didn’t have to, but I knew they’d just do it more so I let it go. That’s just how things worked here, and it was something I couldn’t change even if I wanted to.

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Ten minutes later, after Fraud Man 1 and 2 were done, I entered the bathroom for my morning wash. Calling it a ‘bathroom’ was generous. It was a very small space and the front was wide open, only the lower half of the body was concealed. Privacy was nonexistent, but everyone pretended to be considerate, looking away when someone was using it. The problem was, the cell leader seemed to enjoy the lack of privacy.

“Wow, hoppa, you’ve got a nice body!”

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The leader, still half-asleep, sat in front of the bathroom, watching me like I was a TV show. I’d already finished washing, so I grabbed my shirt from the door and opened it.

“Gotta have a good body to make money.”

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“Take your pants off too. Let’s see how good it really is.”

“That’s about technique, hyung-nim.”

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My casual joke made him laugh heartily. He continued to stare at my exposed upper body as I pulled on my shirt and asked,

“Hey, what’s wrong with your left chest?”

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“Oh, it suddenly got really hot and itchy last night…”

I hadn’t paid attention while I was washing up, but the cell leader’s question reminded me. I looked down at my chest.

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About an inch away from my nipple, from where my pectoral muscle ended to where my abs began, was a mess of scratches. Scabs had formed over the scratches from my fingernails, but that was to be expected. The problem was the dark, bruised-looking skin underneath, as if I’d been beaten, even though I hadn’t. 

The cell leader looked at me with evident concern on his face as he asked,

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“Is your skin rotting? You should request a medical checkup.”

“Requesting a checkup for something like this with a three-month sentence will make me a target. You know how it is, hyung-nim.”

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“It’ll be too late if it starts rotting, man.”

“Come on, it’s not like we’re living in the dark ages. Modern medicine and all.”

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He laughed heartily again at my words. Then he grumbled about how long it had been since he was on the outside and how could he know how things were now. I had nothing to say to that, so I just kept my mouth shut.

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