Is that so... [ Huh. As for the question, he goes silent. When he finally talks- Dokja seems to be looking at his own hands. ]
He was killed. [ ... ] Domestic violence, gambling... my mother and I lived in fear every day. There wasn’t a single day without bruises. [ It's probably an obvious enough sign what led to the man's fate, but Dokja continues as though telling a tale. ] My mother went to jail, leaving her single child alone.
[ A pause. ] There was a book called the Underground Killer. It was previously on the Kyobo bestsellers list. It was an essay written by an abused woman in prison after she killed her husband. It was praised by critics at the time. ..My mother had wrote it. I still remember the time a bunch of reporters waited in front of my house. They kept asking me if the essay was real. I remember everything my classmates said. They told me that my mother made money by selling murder. My relatives also said this. "Your mother is a murderer. How dare she slip her face into the newspapers?"
..Not that my relatives cared, they didn't actually care for me. Any money they used on themselves. [ He had been neglected. Bullied. It was a bit hard because of this. No, it was hard for a long time. After a few moments, he laughs. It's empty, there's no real meaning to it. This is the exact conversation he had with Yoo Sangah and it's strange for it to be coming out like this. How fresh his answer was on his mind. However, by now, he knows better. ]
It's a lot to take in. Do you think he got what he deserved? [ Even if someone didn't approve, it won't change what happened. The man was dead and Dokja strongly believed someone like him was meant to die. ]
There's no other ending for people like him, for people like my father. [ He heaves a shy and shakes his head. ]
I never knew my father until he was dead, so it's not the same. My mother was worse than useless, but I guess she didn't kill girls so that's something maybe. I'd have killed my father myself if one of his victims didn't beat me to it.
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He was killed. [ ... ] Domestic violence, gambling... my mother and I lived in fear every day. There wasn’t a single day without bruises. [ It's probably an obvious enough sign what led to the man's fate, but Dokja continues as though telling a tale. ] My mother went to jail, leaving her single child alone.
[ A pause. ] There was a book called the Underground Killer. It was previously on the Kyobo bestsellers list. It was an essay written by an abused woman in prison after she killed her husband. It was praised by critics at the time. ..My mother had wrote it. I still remember the time a bunch of reporters waited in front of my house. They kept asking me if the essay was real. I remember everything my classmates said. They told me that my mother made money by selling murder. My relatives also said this. "Your mother is a murderer. How dare she slip her face into the newspapers?"
..Not that my relatives cared, they didn't actually care for me. Any money they used on themselves. [ He had been neglected. Bullied. It was a bit hard because of this. No, it was hard for a long time. After a few moments, he laughs. It's empty, there's no real meaning to it. This is the exact conversation he had with Yoo Sangah and it's strange for it to be coming out like this. How fresh his answer was on his mind. However, by now, he knows better. ]
It's a lot to take in. Do you think he got what he deserved? [ Even if someone didn't approve, it won't change what happened. The man was dead and Dokja strongly believed someone like him was meant to die. ]
no subject
There's no other ending for people like him, for people like my father. [ He heaves a shy and shakes his head. ]
I never knew my father until he was dead, so it's not the same. My mother was worse than useless, but I guess she didn't kill girls so that's something maybe. I'd have killed my father myself if one of his victims didn't beat me to it.
[ ...so maybe he gets it, a little. ]
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[ It's a heavy topic, those dark unsettling emotions still swimming in him but he keeps himself as composed to the best of his ability. ]
People like that don't really deserve to be in this world.
[ Finally, a sigh leaves him. Of all the memories to share... it had to be that huh. ]
no subject
[ He looks off to the side, to provide space for Dokja to get himself back together. ]
This kinda stuff the whole week makes me wish we had a bar.