Under the pale lights of a cold hospital room, Jung Woo's struggle to hold on to life had come to an end. Despite all the doctors' efforts, that young body no longer breathed. Omer Jin-Hoo silently knelt down in the hospital corridor behind the glass, trembling. In that silence, for the first time in his life, he felt deeply what it meant to lose someone.
An indescribable void, deep and overwhelming sorrow grew inside him. Jung Woo was not just a friend; he was one of the rare people Omer could truly connect with and trust. Now, all those sincere moments and laughter were swallowed by the darkness of absence Omer spent nights sitting in the cemetery. The coldness of the soil, the silence beneath, reflected the storm in his heart. The tears streaming down his face carried not only his loss but also the growing anger, helplessness, and questions inside him:"Why? Why is all this pain falling on me? God, why have you left me so alone?"
Each prayer echoed emptily, rising with his inner rebellion. The weight of loss, the darkness of loneliness, squeezed Omer's soul and made it hard to breathe.And at that moment, a silent war at home was also ignited. Jung Woo's death triggered the long-standing resentments between his mother and father. The decision to divorce spread through the family like a wave of destruction. As new pains piled onto his already shattered heart, Omer became unable to bear the magnitude of the turmoil in his life. The storm inside began to spill out; silence, loneliness, anger, and helplessness intertwined.
Omer Jin-Hoo found himself at the deepest abyss of life. With the pain of losing a dear friend and in the midst of a broken family, he cried out to God, questioning his own existence. To conclude this chapter, echoing the pain, loneliness, and rebellion in Omer's mind:"Why is everything falling on me? Why me? Is this life meant to destroy me? God, if you hear me… how am I supposed to bear this burden?"Life had become an unbearable burden for Omer Jin-Hoo. The deep void left by Jung Woo's loss had only grown larger with the collapse of his family. Going to school, concentrating on classes—these were no longer even concerns; he felt increasingly alone, even in crowded rooms. As days passed, the voices inside him grew louder, darker.One morning, when he opened his eyes, he had made up his mind: he was going to quit school. It wasn't a sudden rebellion, but the result of months of inner collapse a final cry from his weary soul. His family and friends were surprised when they heard the decision; some were saddened, others tried to understand. But for Omer, all that mattered now was simply to breathe.
The responsibility of the household fell heavily on his shoulders. His mother, tired and broken, was like a shrinking shadow day by day. His younger sibling was an innocent child; Omer had no choice but to be their pillar. He had to work, to bring money home; the lines on his mother's face deepened with every passing day.On his first day of work, early in the morning, the trembling gloves he put on told the story of his fragile spirit. Whether in a factory, café, or market he took any job he could find. He stood for hours, repeating the same motions hundreds of times. His body grew tired, but the heavier exhaustion came from the hopelessness piling up deep within his soul.Every night, returning home after work to his small, lonely room, a storm raged in his mind. Thoughts of suicide had become his darkest visitors. "How much longer can I endure? How much more?" he asked himself, the emptiness in his heart growing with every passing moment. In his most desperate moments, the shadows of his past pursued him relentlessly.
One day, overwhelmed by unbearable weight, he decided to leave the city. He wanted to go to Busan, to stay with his grandmother and grandfather. That place was where he had found some peace in his childhood. His grandmother tried to soothe the storm inside him with warm embraces, and his grandfather with wise words.The scent of the sea and the gentle breeze of Busan brought some comfort to Omer's worn spirit. He spent days sitting quietly, sometimes drinking tea with his grandmother, sometimes walking along the shore. Slowly, the small pieces of his broken heart began to fit back together. Here, he found the strength to tolerate life's hardships just a little longer.Yet still, in the corner of his mind, there was always one question: "What comes next?"On a windy hill in Busan, Omer Jin-Hoo was lost in deep thoughts. Inside him was a void as vast as the sea horizon but filled with raging storms. As the days passed, the pain in his heart grew, and his will to live gradually faded. He felt he no longer had the strength to endure.One evening, staring into the vast blue of the sea, he knelt under the weight of his darkest thoughts. "Maybe this should be the last stop…" he thought. Loneliness and despair wrapped around him like a cold chain, tight and unyielding. Everything felt meaningless; everything seemed over.At that moment, his phone vibrated, startling him. On the screen was his grandmother's name. Hearing her voice warmed his heart, even if just a little. Calm but determined, his grandmother said, "Omer, there are people who love you in this life. There are still beautiful things you need to see. Don't give up." In the simplicity of her words, there was great power.The fading spark of hope inside him was rekindled by his grandmother's voice. Taking a deep breath, tears streaming down his cheeks, he changed his mind. He realized then that, no matter how heavy and painful the world was, there were still memories to live and stories to complete.The journey back to Seoul was difficult but meaningful. There was a little more light in his eyes, and a faint resistance in his heart. Family relationships were still challenging; old wounds hadn't healed, and silence and resentment still lingered in the rooms. But Omer walked on with a new strength inside, taking firmer, more determined steps.