EPISODE 1: The House With No Goodbye
1295 Words
“The House With No Goodbye”
🎬 EPISODE 1
INT. KIM FAMILY HOUSE – LIVING ROOM – NIGHT
The house used to be warm. Not because of the lights, or the heater, or the way the curtains caught the afternoon sun.
It was warm because of her.
Jenny’s mother. Now the house felt like a museum of silence. And silence breaks in strange ways. Tonight, it broke with glass.
The sharp crash echoed through the quiet house. A picture frame hit the wall and shattered against it. Glass scattered across the wooden floor like fragments of ice.
The photograph inside slid out of the broken frame. It was a picture of a woman smiling softly. JENNY’S MOTHER.
The photo spun once on the floor before stopping.
JENNY KIM (25), stood in the middle of the living room, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Tears blurred her vision, but she didn’t wipe them away.
Across from her stood her father.
JERRY KIM. His fists were clenched so tightly the veins in his hands bulged beneath the skin. His face was red — not just with anger, but with exhaustion.
Grief sat behind his eyes. But anger spoke louder.
FATHER (JERRY KIM)
(shouting)
I SOLD IT, JENNY! The contract is signed!
His voice bounced off the walls that once held laughter. Jenny felt like the ground had disappeared beneath her feet.
JENNY
(voice breaking)
It’s been ONE DAY!
“One day, Dad.” Her throat tightened.
Her words broke apart.
"Mom just— she just—"
She can’t finish the sentence. Her chest tightens. She couldn’t say it. Couldn’t say died.
The word felt like poison. Her father dragged a hand through his hair in frustration.
FATHER
What do you want me to do?! Keep this house like a shrine?!
JENNY
It IS her house! Every corner has her in it!
She rushed forward and knelt on the floor, picking up the fallen photo frame carefully despite the shards of glass. A small cut appeared on her finger, but she didn’t notice.
She pulled the photograph against her chest.
JENNY (CONT'D)
You didn’t even ask me…
Her voice was barely a whisper.
Her father’s jaw tightened.
FATHER
I’m drowning in debt! Hospital bills don’t disappear just because you cry!
Silence.
Jenny’s tears fall harder now — not loud sobbing, just broken breathing. The words struck harder than any slap.
Jenny went still. The room fell into a heavy silence. She stared at the photograph in her hands. Her mother’s smile looked so gentle. So alive. So wrong for this moment.
JENNY
(whispering)
You promised her… you said we’d stay together.
Her father looks away. Guilt flickers — but pride wins.
FATHER
Pack your things. We leave in three days.
JENNY’S BEDROOM – LATER THAT NIGHT
Jenny’s room was half empty already. Open boxes sat on the floor.
Clothes folded in messy piles.
The walls looked strange without the posters and photos that had been there for years.
Jenny sat on the floor beside her bed.
In her hands was a soft gray cardigan.
Her mother’s.
She pressed it to her face. It still smelled faintly like lavender. The scent shattered the last of her control.
Jenny sobbed. Her shoulders shook as tears soaked into the fabric.
JENNY
(through tears)
Mom… where am I supposed to go?
The room gave no answer. Only the quiet hum of the night outside.
Then—
Her phone buzzed.
Jenny ignored it.
The phone buzzed again. She sniffed and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater before reaching for it.
Unknown number. For a moment she considered letting it ring.
But something inside her told her she couldn’t afford to ignore calls anymore.
She answered.
JENNY
Hello…?
LANDLORD
Miss Kim? About the boarding room your friend inquired about— it’s small, shared bathroom, Rent is weekly, not monthly.
Jenny closed her eyes. Reality settled around her like a cold fog.
She was leaving.
This house.
This life.
Everything.
JENNY
I’ll take it.
She said quietly.
Her voice trembled.
But beneath it was something new.
Strength.
KIM HOUSE – THREE DAYS LATER – MORNING
A moving truck drives away.
Jenny stands on the sidewalk with one suitcase and one duffel bag.
The morning air was cool. She turns to look at the house one last time. Her childhood home stood behind her.
It looked smaller now. Or maybe she had just grown up too quickly. The front door opened.
Her father stepped outside carrying a box. He avoided looking at her.
Not once did their eyes meet.
Another car waited in the driveway.
He placed the box in the trunk and got inside. The engine started.
Jenny waited. Part of her hoped he would roll down the window.
Say something.
Anything.
But the car pulled away without a word.
Jenny was alone.
The wind brushed gently against her face.
Her chest tightened, but she forced herself not to cry. She had cried enough.
Instead, she took one last look at the house.
The windows.
The porch.
The small tree her mother planted when Jenny was ten.
Then she whispered to herself:
JENNY
If I can survive this… I can survive anything.
She walks away.
SMALL BOARDING ROOM – NIGHT
The room was barely bigger than a storage closet.
A single bed.
A small desk.
A narrow window that looked out onto the back of another building.
Jenny placed her suitcase down slowly.
This was home now.
She unpacked carefully.
Two shirts.
One pair of jeans.
A few personal things.
Finally, she took out the photograph of her mother.
She placed it beside the pillow.
“Goodnight, Mom,” she whispered softly.
Jenny lay down on the bed.
The mattress creaked beneath her weight.
She stared at the ceiling.
Her stomach growled.
She opened her wallet.
Only a few bills remained.
Not enough.
Not nearly enough.
Jenny closed her eyes.
JENNY
I just have to work harder.
That’s all I’m good at anyway.
Her voice was quiet in the darkness. A tear slid slowly down her cheek and disappeared into her hair.
Outside, the city kept moving.
Cars passed.
People laughed somewhere far away.
But inside the tiny room, Jenny lay still.
Trying to learn how to live in a world without her mother. And without a home.
The night swallowed her quiet tears.
(ू˃̣̣̣̣̣̣︿˂̣̣̣̣̣̣ ू)
- Writer
