Expulsion

Author Na Do-hyang

Young-sook scattered the silk clothes and cosmetics she had once been so proud of, things she had valued more than her own life, across the floor of her room. They were extravagant, like the garments a fairy of the moon palace might wear to a queen's banquet. She sat leaning against the window. The water recently sprinkled in the yard brought a damp moisture up from the flowerbed, and a subtle fragrance rode the breeze, gently swaying the Western-style window curtains. Yet, with eyes full of sorrow, Young-sook only stared blankly at the thin smoke rising from the chimney across the way, watching it silently fade into nothingness.

A moment later, bead-like tears began to drop from her eyes, and her lips trembled slightly. Wiping her tears with the window curtain, she gazed intently at the distant sky, lost in thought.

Ah, what lay within her heart to draw out such endless tears? It was because of that emotion called affection, something every human being possesses. Anyone who does not understand the blood of resentment boiling over in the aching heart of this young girl, who has just received an order of expulsion from her school, would be in no position to judge her rights and wrongs.

She sat down again at the desk in the corner of her room. Taking up a brush and unfolding a sheet of paper, she began to write. What was she writing? It was none other than her own memoir. Why was she writing this memoir? She was pouring out everything in her heart for her fiancé, Lee Byung-chul. If there is no falsehood in this memoir, through it, one will come to know the truth behind Lee Young-sook's expulsion. Now, I shall introduce that memoir.

My dear Byung-chul, where are you right now? Are you across that vast and distant sea, in a place unseen? Are you wandering through a dense forest? Why is it that, even though I call out, there is no answer? The sound of my desperate calling echoes from this mountain to the next and returns to me. How is it that this echo, which rings through the air filling the universe, fails to reach your ears? Ah, will you not return until all the blood in my heart cools and turns to icy water? Even when my body turns to dust, becomes a stream flowing through a mountain valley, and that water rises into the air to become a cloud floating above your head, begging, "Byung-chul, I was wrong"—will you still remain as heartless as you are now?

Ah, but I cannot resent you. No matter how much I change my heart now and love you once again, I cannot bring myself to resent you.

Even now, I think back. When the shepherd's flute sounded in the spring, when the lush green shade brought coolness in the summer, when the bright moon shimmered upon the stream in the autumn, and when the white snow covered the whole world like a cotton blanket in the winter—the two of us spent our passing days and dawning nights in pure joy, among the gently flowing streams on the grass of that wide, vast plain. We lived in heaven then; we resided in paradise.

It was an autumn day in the year I turned fourteen. As you and I sat on a seaside rock, watching the rolling waves, the passing sailboats, and the clouds billowing over the horizon, we both felt a strange emotion in our hearts, one that is hard to put into words. Just then, a cold wind blew in from the sea. Worried that I might be cold, you embraced me with your warm body and began to say, "We will forever be like this..." but you could not finish your words. At that moment, my heart was filled with a shy yet joyful feeling, but, too embarrassed to remain in your arms, I pushed your chest away with these feeble hands that now hold this brush.

Ah, it was then that we realized the existence of affection between us, something more precious than anything else in this world. As the sun set behind the western mountains and herons flew over the golden ripples of the evening sea, we left that rock—a monumental rock for the two of us—and returned to our respective homes. From that time on, whenever we met, a bashful feeling would somehow arise in our hearts, and when we could not meet, we were so filled with longing that we could not sleep.

Ah, Byung-chul. If we had spent our entire lives in that countryside, there is no way I would be writing this letter today. But why did the god of fate refuse to leave us be? I ended up moving to Seoul, following my parents. When grasshoppers danced on the narrow paths between the fields and frogs sang leisurely in the creek, when the morning sun, breaking through the morning mist, reflected off the dewdrops hanging on the tips of the grass, my parents sat me on a donkey and headed for Seoul. Seeing you come out to say goodbye, they said, "Farewell. Our child is going to Seoul to study hard, so stay healthy and let us meet again happily."

At that time, without saying a word, you merely stared at me intently, your eyes brimming with tears. Ah, surely you must have understood what was in my heart then. For this Young-sook, traveling to Seoul with grand aspirations accompanied by the sound of donkey bells, there might have been a sliver of hopeful comfort. But for you, left with nothing but sorrow, how many times must your heart have broken by the waves crashing against the rocks at twilight? When I passed the entrance of the village and looked back one last time, you were wiping your tears with the ribbons of your coat, watching me fade into the distance. When the donkey moved on and you were no longer in sight, you cannot know how much the drawn-out cry of a bull grazing in a distant meadow broke my departing heart.

Ah, Byung-chul, where are you? Where are you shedding tears, resenting me? Are you still in this world? Or have you abandoned this cloud-like world and gone to the distant afterlife? If you are still in this world, please hurry back and hear my apology. And if you are no longer in this world, then after I die, no matter which small grave in a mountain valley I am buried in, please become a cloud that never leaves the sky above it, and moisten my grave through all four seasons. Let the grass growing on that grave be forever green.

Ah, my heart feels like it will burst. My blood feels as though it is drying up completely. Even now, I find myself questioning why I did such a thing back then, during our school's anniversary ceremony.

It was a certain spring day. I had gone for a walk with my friends. The languid atmosphere of spring and the intoxicating, soft breeze—why did they reignite all the forgotten passions within my heart? I spent that day as if in a dream. Of course, the thought of you was nowhere in my mind.

Just then, I happened to meet the older brother of one of my friends. That was the first time I formally greeted him, though I later found out he had been following me around out of admiration. Completely unaware of this, I walked shoulder to shoulder with him over the newly sprouted grass, talking about this and that. The scent drifting from his clothes and the smile blooming on his handsome face constantly drew me in, weak to affection as I am. And by some coincidence, the friends who had come with me all vanished somewhere, leaving only him and me behind.

It was then that I became a sinner against you. From that point on, as days and months passed, what brought me pleasure and filled my life with joy was the affection he gave me and all the extravagant, beautiful things he bought for me. It was then that I learned about makeup and began to mimic charm. My mind always perceived the amusements of Paris as a paradise-like celebration, and I came to believe that a comfortable life in a tall, glamorous building was the true way to live.

Thus, the relationship between him and me crossed the line, and what burned in my heart more and more was the inability to hold his hand and travel abroad. One day, mustering all the courage in my heart, I asked him if we could travel overseas. He readily agreed. Since he was the son of one of the wealthiest families in Gyeongseong, I believed him entirely, and, overcome with joy, I stayed close to him for days, forgetting even to eat or sleep. Of course, it was a secret from my family.

That evening, I went to the meeting place. The moonlight was so radiant that it seemed to illuminate all the hopes in my heart, shining as brightly as a life in the moon palace. The promised time passed. However, the person I was waiting for did not arrive. Knowing no suspicion, this Young-sook waited with unwavering faith until ten o'clock at night.

But the moon gradually slipped behind dark clouds, and the world seemed to be covered in a black veil as everything grew quieter. Suddenly struck by a terrifying thought, I was about to return home when someone from behind called out, "Wait just a moment," asking me to stop. Startled but feeling a rush of gladness, I quickly turned around. Ah, it was not the man I was supposed to meet, but a menacing-looking stranger I had never seen before. I was deeply shocked, but with my wrist already grabbed, I could not move an inch. The man wore a sneer and said, "Hmph, you've tried so hard waiting for Jung Yoon-mo, haven't you? Well, I've come instead of Jung, so don't you worry about a thing."

I believe you can guess the situation that followed. Not only did I become someone who had sinned twice over, but I was left with no one to rely on.

Ah, there was not a single man I could trust. On that day, I truly sinned against you. Even if my body had been defiled tens of thousands of times, it could not compare to the sin I committed against you then. Yet, when committing the sin of the flesh, I at least felt fear and shame. But when you tried to greet me happily, and I, because I was with Jung Yoon-mo, refused to return the greeting and instead asked, "Who are you?"—in that moment, I acted boldly, without any hesitation or shame.

Ah, Byung-chul. You must curse every woman in this world. You must view me as a poisonous snake. Today, I received the final order of expulsion from my school. I have no face to show to my parents, my relatives, or anyone else in this world. But Byung-chul, I don't even know where you are. Surely you, and only you, whose whereabouts I don't even know, might forgive my sins. I know full well that your heart must be torn, overflowing with the boiling blood of resentment. I want to beg for your forgiveness, but where are you now to receive it?

From now on, I will live however things turn out. Whether I am swept away by the wind and smashed against a mountain to die, or washed away by the waves and broken against a reef, I will live aimlessly. The only thing I hope for, with the true love that is the core of my heart, is that if you ever read this final letter of Young-sook's beneath some star, you will simply say, "The tainted Young-sook has become pure again." The words in my head are long, while the paper and brush are short; I would be satisfied if you just understand that I have written my true feelings in these few words.

Sincerely,
Young-sook

Lee Young-sook, who had written that letter while soaking the paper with falling tears, folded up her cosmetics and silk clothes once again and put them into the wardrobe. She closed the door and stepped outside. Where did she go, and what was she setting out to do?