AM I PERFECT

CHAPTER 14: "The Letter That Came Too Late"

Her eyes were filled with tears. Even if she did not look

at him, her fate had brought her past and placed it right in front

of her. And even if she left there, how could she escape the

voices she could hear screaming in pain, begging for forgiveness,

trying to prove themselves, trying to stop someone? If he had

been just something, it would not have hurt this much. He was

standing there in front of her with his very existence.

If someone had asked about the state of her heart, she

would have told them that every scene was appearing in front of

her again, as if she were watching a film on television. She

suddenly placed both her hands over her ears and spoke. He was

sitting far away, yet Hanna heard her voice. She immediately

turned toward Melina and asked, "What happened?"

Hanna placed a hand on her shoulder. When her hand

touched her shoulder, and she looked at herself, tears were

clearly flowing down her face. Seeing her condition, Hanna

became worried and came closer, asking, "What happened? Why

are you crying? Is everything okay?"

Receiving Hanna's sympathetic hand at such a sensitive

moment, she could not control her emotions anymore. She

broke down and hugged her tightly, crying uncontrollably. "I am

tired of this world. I do not want to live here," she said while

crying, expressing her pain.

Hanna could not understand what had suddenly

happened to her or why she was crying so bitterly. "You were

41

fine just a little while ago. What suddenly happened? "Hanna

asked.

Hanna hugged tightly and, between sobs, said, "Can you

lend me your shoulder? I want to cry openly." Hearing this,

Hanna did not think it appropriate to ask any more questions

and hugged her in response.

Her sobbing sounds slowly stopped. Her eyes were

closed. Hanna began to feel uneasy. When her floor mate gently

shook her from behind, she said, "I'm fine, don't worry." I am

alive. My fate is not good enough to take me away." Saying this,

she pulled away from her embrace.

"What kind of things are you saying? What have you

even seen yet?" Hanna said. She looked at her upon hearing this

and replied, "I've seen more of the world than even your great

grandfather." Saying this, she started to leave.

"Where are you going? Ma'am has forbidden it," Hanna

said.

"I have no interest in useless things," she replied and

moved forward.

Just then, the madam's voice came from behind,

"Where are you going? Guests have arrived."

"Ma'am, if I sit here a little longer, I might suffocate. So

please let me go. If something happens to me, you'll be

responsible," she said without turning back.

Before the ma'am could say anything, she quickly left

from there.

Her steps had quickened. Tears streamed down her face,

and the sound of her sobs echoed through the corridor as she

passed by. Somehow, holding herself together, she reached the

lift and began repeatedly pressing the button. Her tears were no

longer under her control, nor were the painful thoughts that

refused to leave her alone. Their intensity had grown so

unbearable that her head began to ache.

"When will this lift come?" She muttered, her grief

slowly turning into frustration. In anger, she struck the lift

button with her hand. She cried, instantly trying to rein in her

temper, even though she did not want to.

He had been so happy... and it had not even been a

year since he had walked out of her life. And yet, he had

forgotten everything.

How could he forget everything?

She crushed her inner voice before it could escape. Her

heart screamed to shout, to tell the world the truth, but she knew

better that this cruel world had no one willing to listen.

Just then, the lift doors slid open.

He was standing right in front of her.

The moment she saw him, her tears froze. "What are

you doing here? "She asked, hurriedly wiping her face and

glancing around. Before she could react, he grabbed her hand

and pulled her into the lift, pressing the button for the floor they

needed to reach.

She stood facing him, stunned. His hand was still

holding hers, and he was standing far too close. They stared at

each other. The shock was so deep that she completely forgot

what would happen if someone saw them together. Instead, her

past surged back into her mind, relentlessly tormenting her.

He could not bear to see her like this.

Tears filled his eyes, shaking his very soul. Gently, he

lifted one hand and placed it against the side of her face.

"Who made you cry?" he asked softly.

His gaze remained fixed on her, yet she wasn't truly

there. Her tears now flowed freely and mercilessly, mirroring the

world itself, as if centuries of restraint had finally broken.

He leaned closer. She didn't move. Slowly, almost

hesitantly, he brought his lips toward her cheek and placed them

where her tears had fallen. One tear slipped onto his lips.

In that instant, she realized how dangerously close he

was.

Startled, she forced herself back to reality. Placing both

her hands firmly against his chest, she pushed him away.

He stepped back slightly. Being pushed away had hurt

him, but that pain did not matter to him right now. What

mattered was only one thing: whoever had brought tears to her

eyes, he would not let them go unpunished.

Whoever made you cry will have to cry the same way, he

vowed angrily to himself.

She leaned against the corner of the lift for support. She

was broken; her face made it painfully clear how deeply

wounded she was. Her tears refused to stop; every time a

thought crossed her mind, fresh tears spilled from her eyes.

He kept looking at her. He wanted to move closer, but

the reason for holding him back made him feel helpless and

weak. Watching her, he thought bitterly, how lucky is the person

for whom you are shedding tears... and how unfortunate am I,

that when I tried to wipe them away, you punished me while he

was spared without consequence.

His heart felt unbearably heavy. Tears filled his own

eyes. She noticed they noticed the hurt reflected there, but

perhaps she did not care anymore. Ignoring him, she turned her

face away.

Just then, an announcement echoed inside the lift: the

lift had reached its destination.

He stood silently in one corner as the doors opened.

Without looking at him, she stepped out. After she left, he

followed. The floor was empty. He wiped his tears as he walked

behind her.

"Remember... you still remember, don't you?" he asked

softly.

"Yes," she replied flatly. "I remember."

She reached her room, unlocked the door, and stepped

inside. She paused just there, at the doorway, and the moment he

entered behind her, she shut the door.

"When will you leave?" she asked.

He had not expected that question.

"Do you hate me?" he asked quietly.

"That's not my question," she replied in a straight,

serious tone. "Answer what I asked."

"I already told you, "He said.

Hearing that, she stepped closer to him and, staring

straight into his eyes, said firmly, "Tomorrow, I don't want to

see you here."

Her words were more than he could bear.

"This room is my only shelter," he said, his voice

breaking. "Where will I go? Do not take my shelter away from

me."

She turned her face to the other side, avoiding his gaze.

"That's not my problem."

Her cold words filled his eyes with tears.

"I'll die," he said softly. "They'll kill me."

After those words, silence fell between them, heavy,

suffocating silence.

It broke only when she turned back toward him once

more. Avoiding his eyes, she said flatly, "I don't care," and

shoved his shoulder as she walked toward the bathroom.

She stood in front of the mirror, staring at her

reflection. One hand pressed against one side of her face, the

other against the opposite cheek. Then she broke down crying

uncontrollably, so loudly that the man standing outside grew

restless upon hearing her pain-filled sobs.

He rushed toward the bathroom and began knocking on

the door.

"Open the door, please," he pleaded.

"I hate myself. I hate myself," she cried out. "Why am I

still alive? He could not recognize me. Love is a lie. I hate love, I

hate it."

Her voice carried unbearable agony, pulling him toward

her from within.

"Open the door, or I'll break it," he shouted.

"Shut up. Get out of here," she screamed back harshly.

"Who are you, anyway? I hate you. I do not need you. Leave me

alone."

"Leave me alone," she whispered to herself as she slid

down against the door, curling up with her head resting on her

knees.

Her tears were exhausted now.

She was exhausted.

Hearing her cruel words, he began to cry as well. He had

never felt pain like this before, never as deeply as her words had

wounded him.

Slowly, he sank on the other side of the door, leaning

against it. He rested his head against the wood, his eyes lifted

upward, tears filling them silently.

The sound of footsteps made her restless, whose fate

had already kept her in a constant state of unease. Now the

approaching footsteps from outside unsettled her even more.

"He's leaving," she said, staring at the closed bathroom

door, then answered herself the next moment. "It is better this

way. I was the one who told him to go."

Yet her words refused to stand by her. It felt as though,

once again, someone close to her was slipping away.

They will kill me...

The sentence he had said echoed in her mind again.

The footsteps came close, then stopped.

And suddenly, silence spread everywhere.

"Why isn't he saying anything? I know he is standing

right near the door," she thought.

Should I say something? No... I have already said too

much. Now it is his turn.

She pressed her ear against the bathroom door, hoping

he would speak. But no sound came. That silence made her

unbearably anxious.

She stood up, tense and confused.

"Should I go and stop him?" she asked herself.

From within, her pride answered immediately, No. If

you stop him, he'll take pride in himself. Remember, no one is

more important to you than yourself.

"But I saw sympathy for me in his eyes," she argued

back.

Her pride replied, "Sympathy? showed sympathy, too.

But where was he when you needed him the most?

"Enough. Stop," she whispered to herself. After a

pause, she added quietly, "Fine. You win. I won't stop him."

Good, her pride replied.

Through the closed bathroom door, she could clearly

hear his footsteps moving away. The sound grew fainter... and

fainter... until another sound ended everything.

The sound of the room's door closing.

He had left.

She knew it, yet she remained inside the bathroom.

What if he is just pretending? What if he is joking with

me?

I said too many cruel things to him. I should not have

said that ... yes, I should not have.

A voice of compassion rose from somewhere deep

inside her, a voice that had been buried for a long time.

Regret began to settle in her heart.

They will kill me...

His painful words refused to leave her mind.

Suddenly, her pride spoke again, overpowering her.

What if he were lying?

Once again, pride tightened its grip, loosening the hold

of compassion.

"I don't care," she said, trying to reassure herself.

She slowly opened the bathroom door, peeked outside,

and looked around the room. He had truly gone.

"I don't know whether I'm happy about his leaving...

or sad," she thought.

Her pride answered confidently, "Sad? Obviously not.

He was disturbing your privacy. Besides, you could not keep him

here forever. Eventually, he had to step outside and face his

enemies.

"Yes... yes," she whispered, convincing herself. "I

didn't do anything wrong."

She tried to please her pride with false reassurance.

But inside, she was fighting a battle.

, a battle where she could no longer tell whose side to

take:

her pride...

or her innocent heart.

She had stepped outside now, yet her eyes were still

searching for him. She did not know why, but she was certain of

one thing: he could not leave her like this. And yet, he truly had

gone.

Suddenly, a fragrance reached her senses.

This... this is the same scent.

A faint smile appeared on her lips as she turned around,

but the smile quickly faded into sadness, because there was

nothing there except an empty room.

Yet the fragrance pulled her attention toward a piece of

paper.

Her gaze fell on a paper placed on the table, folded

neatly, and kept under a glass, as if someone had placed it there

carefully, especially for someone. On top of that paper lay a rose.

Seeing the rose, she rushed toward the paper. Now

standing close, she stared at both the paper and the rose with

suspicion.

"I do not know about this rose... but how did this

paper get here? I did not put it here," she murmured.

She knew very well who the rose belonged to, but for

now, the paper had completely captured her attention.

This paper might be his.

Should I pick it up or not?

Let me see... if it were that important, why would he

leave it here? He would have taken it with him.

Thinking this, she reached out to pick up the paper.

A beautiful fragrance rose from it, so beautiful that it

touched her heart.

She lifted the paper and brought it closer, inhaling its

scent. And the moment she did, she was lost in that instant

when the two of them had once been so close.

She opened her eyes and looked closely at the folded

paper.

Now, she began to open it.

As she unfolded the paper, she didn't know why her

hands were trembling. Her fingers were shaking on their own.

The moment she started opening it, words began to

appear.

Her hands trembled even more, and in her nervousness,

the paper slipped from her hands.

"Oh no... why am I so scared? Everything is fine. But

still... I don't know what's written in it."

She tried to calm herself, but her body was still

trembling. Her breathing, which had been slow before, was now

rapid.

"I don't know why... but I'm not getting good vibes,"

she thought to herself.

Her hand moved toward the paper again.

She picked it up once more, this time with shaking

hands.

The paper read:

I am leaving not because I want to be separated from

you, nor because you asked me to go, but because death itself is

calling me.

I could never tell you this, but my soul has a very deep

connection with yours. When a soul is torn away, the pain is

unbearable. I died the very moment you said those words to me.

If I now die at the hands of others, that death will be

meaningless.

You are right, one should never trust strangers, because

sometimes even our own begin to feel like strangers.

I love you.

I wanted to say this to your face-to-face, but it is my

misfortune that perhaps you will read this letter only after my

death, or maybe it will get lost somewhere, used like an ordinary

piece of paper.

One last thing... perhaps you will never love me, but I

will always stay with you, remain close to you, and never let any

harm come to you.

My final goodbye.

Tears streamed down her face as she finished reading.

Now the realization of her mistake struck her with brutal force.

"What have I done?" she cried.

"If something happens to him... no, no, I won't let

anything happen to him."

She clutched her head and broke down sobbing. She

didn't know what to do or where to go.

"I can't just sit here like this... yes, I'll take this with

me."

Her eyes fell on the knife placed on the table. The

moment she saw it, she picked it up and, without thinking,

slipped it into her pocket.

"But how will I go outside?"

She paused for a moment, then said firmly, "I do not

care. Right now, all that matters is him."

Her hands were trembling. She was terrified of what if

she got late. What if she could not find him?

Countless questions raced through her mind, widening

the chaos of her thoughts.

She put on a mask, wore her shoes, and still dressed in

her nightgown, preparing herself to leave just as she was.

She opened the door of the room slightly and peeked

outside.

"There's no one here..."

"Just like always... you're so lucky," she whispered,

thinking of him.

She stepped out and gently closed the door behind her.

Her footsteps quickened as she moved toward the lift that led to

the ground floor, right in front of him, yet still so far.

The lift took a while to come down. Her entire body

was shaking.

The lift doors opened.

And the moment they did, she saw him standing there,

surrounded by four men.

Her trembling froze him to the spot.