When you read a story, you think of structure, no? A clear beginning, middle and end. And after that, possibly an epilogue. That's a story. But in reality, there is afterwards. And for our story, I wanted to ensure there was no 'next'. Thus, I killed him. I killed someone who couldn't be called human anymore. My husband.

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My name is Lee Sookyung. I'm married, and we have a son called Kim Dokja. Today, I couldn't go to work because of some bruises. It's hard to lift my arm, and smoke from his cigarette fills the air. This wasn't how I imagined living in the future. It wasn't a future I wanted to give to that child. Or maybe I just wanted to avert my eyes to it all. Ah, Dokja-yah. My only son couldn't run around with other children. I felt bad, so I called out to him in the living room. Rushing over to the table, he barely glanced towards me. His black locks fell towards the fresh book we bought. A simple hobby that was easy to hide. Even from the couch, and the glare from the laptop screen it was visible. His eyes sparkling as he reads.

“Mom,I don’t like this prince.”

Gold light filtered across the curtain, making it harder to get a clear view. There were a few scrawled pages in crayon. Setting the dusty thing aside for a moment, I scooted closer to him.

“Why? The important thing isn’t the letters. It’s where they lead you.”

“You say that all the time, but this one is really different! He’s all twisty with the rose..”

“He doesn’t understand why she’s sad. Even if they’re special, like the fox said what happens if she’s stuck with a field of roses!”

“Well...wouldn’t the prince pick her out, anyway?”

I read the book over a few times, but I never really bothered thinking of it like this. Children were truly curious things.

“And if he’s sick and old- will the rose still be tamed by him?”

He looked at me desperately for an answer.

Time passed, and some hours came and went.

Eventually, he fell asleep after the story. Usually, we’d read together, but I needed to plan properly these days. Still, how cute. I couldn't help but whisper.

"As long as you read, you'll surely find something different."

I said it often to him. I wanted to find something different than this reality we were in. Debt was piling up because of that useless gambling habit of his,abuse I had to deal with silently like this. I couldn't go to office with it. I stared at the clock. The living room felt like hell. Really, isn't it good if someone like that dies? At least, I thought so. If this was a novel, surely he'd get into an accident, we'd hold a funeral no one would care about, send meaningless regards and move on. Because in real life, there is always a next. The next letters would form a sentence, and that sentence seemed endless.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

So, on a lit dinner gripping both fork and knife, I grasped his sore spot. It was a topic that would always come up once or twice. He was rarely home, anyway.

"Let's divorce."

"Stupid bitch. Divorce? Do you know where'd this family would be without me?"

His guffaw was disgusting. It would've been nice to forget his face. To forget the memories he gave me all this time. My neck felt cold and legs like ice.

"You aren't even attractive. At least our Sookyung should have one good thing about her, ah?"

I did have good things. We both had good things, back then.

"But you only teach those useless fantasies all day."

The table shaking due to a little kick, I was familiar with. He flinched, facing his down clearly to the bowl. Dokja was...he was barely 6. I held his hand, but he didn't dare look up. Trembling, he didn't dare meet my gaze. Right, today. He read The Little Prince to me. He drew, went on journey, and happened on a desolate planet with only a rose. He thought that rose was special in all the world. Yet, it was only a common flower. But if you tamed it, and it tamed you..yes, we could of have something like a relationship. He drank more alcohol.

"Fucking..why'd I get stuck..gloomy bitch-"

The harsh scraping of chairs happened at the same time. He moved forward,while I stepped back.

"Dokja-yah. Go to your room."

"Dokja, Dokja..haha! You only talk to that kid! Never, never to me.."

His body was bulging, muscle pooling in his stomach and thighs. Shadows eclipsed any telltale signs of his ‘fits.’ His shirt was too tight, and his hair was thick unlike mine. Rather than walking, it was a furious stampede. Like a soldier. I thought about it again. Couldn't I run away like this? If I forgot that child, forget myself and ran away without thinking about anything else?

I could live like that.

His hands gripped my arms. It stung, and I couldn't bear it.

How long was I going to live like this?

I grabbed the knife from the table. It hurt. I raised a battered arm. My bones were cracking.

And swung it down again and again. I swung it for my despair. I swung it because I didn't believe he could be dead. I cut, swung and stabbed deeper for my satisfaction. His squeals slowly cut off. But my anger, my shame didn't disappear. It couldn't disappear. Parents like this, a mother like me.. These thoughts wanted more than anything else to see all too clearly. Only cloudy, lifeless, dead eyes. I eventually stood up. My skirt was dirty, and my hair frazzled.

I heard a door swing open awhile after that.

「 Dokja. 」

I smiled towards my only son.

「 From now on, I will read all of this again. 」

「Thus, you have to remember well. Understood? 」