Mina

by Kim Sagwa

  Mina trembles with her arms crossed tight. “My leg hurts. No…I can’t feel it anymore.”

  “Yeah. I know. It hurts, right? I know! Do you think I don’t know?! Oh…sorry…I’m too worked up, sorry.”

  “My poor leg.”

  “You need to die because you respect grown-ups. You do, don’t you? You love your mom and you love your dad. You love Minho. And your teachers. All of them. Your aunts, your uncles, your grandmothers, even your aunts by marriage. It’s because of trash like you that the world is falling apart. How can you respect these adults? While you kiss up to them they’re stealing what’s most important from you and you don’t have a clue. They’re stealing it all, they leave nothing. Nothing except dirty, rotting wounds. It’s horrifying, don’t you think? And that’s the life of a grown-up! And you respect it! Because of people like you the world keeps getting dirtier. Do you get it? You need to know. You ought to feel guilty. You should cry and beg forgiveness. You need to lick the bathroom floor in apology. You need to bow down and get trampled on. You smell like B.O. Get away from me. I hate you. Do you really think I’m acting out of bullshit feelings—an inferiority complex, loss, some bullshit like that? Wrong. I don’t care about complexes. They’re totally unimportant. I don’t feel them. Sometimes I even scare myself. That has to be why the asshole hates me. And that’s why I hate people like you who feel everything. And it’s because of all those bullshit feelings that you respect grown-ups and mope around over your friend’s death—right? And it’s because you waste your time on those bullshit feelings that the world is getting shittier. You’re wasting everything that’s good about you. And I hate waste. You’re a perfect example of how emotions mess things up. How do you parade around all those stupid emotions? How did you come up with them? Where did you learn them? Did someone make you learn them? We don’t need them in this world. People like you are harmful. That’s why you ended up in a stupid alternative school—you’re a loser. The world wants people like me. And it wants people like me to kill people like you. Nobody will say a thing, because I’m perfect! I’m not bragging, I don’t have to brag, because I’m already there, and we both know it. It’s impossible to be better than me. It’s a big world and there are a lot of great people, but no one’s better than me. I can feel it. I work myself to death, all the time. I can be proud; I can feel like I should get what I deserve. And the world acknowledges my efforts. But what about you? What were you doing while I was working so hard? You were drowning in sorrow about Chiye, that’s what. Let’s assume that was real, though I have my doubts. You did well, you’re commendable, Mina, you’re outstanding. Your skill, your talent, they’re out of this world. But all of that is useless. The world wants a person like me, people want a life like mine. They, uh, how can I put it…they encourage a person like me, they recommend a life like mine. But you? How can you live in a place like this trying to be as wise and calm as a Buddha. Look where you live. Whose idea was all this? Look at what you have here. You want to be a noble family? You long to be European, don’t you? Well guess what. This place is garbage. And this garbage has made garbage out of you. You read books by Europeans and take European trips, you live in a European-style house and eat European food in your European dining room, you go to a European alternative school to get a European education—I love Europe, too, isn’t that what this is all about? Those quaint old countries with their cheese, you love them. You think you can be European just by imitating them. You think European blood will flow in your veins, that you’ll be charged with some European energy. Does that sound normal to you? And you want to tell me I’m crazy? It’s obvious that I’m way more normal than you are. What the world wants, and what I want from the world that wants me, is normalcy—not abnormality. And the way I see it, you’re abnormal. You don’t make sense. How can you be satisfied with all this stuff you have when you don’t even notice it? How can you be content with that innocent-looking smile on your face?”

  Crystal’s cheeks are blazing and she’s shivering with rage. She has to do something. She takes the Bohemian crystal vase from the coffee table and hurls it at the TV. It arcs through the air and shatters the screen. This only feeds her rage. All she can do is walk in circles and scream, and then she glares at Mina.

  “Why don’t you answer me?”

  Mina is shivering, too, her cheeks streaked white by dried tears. Her thigh blooms in an ugly mélange of colors, mostly hidden by her jeans.

  “So you’re saying… Ahh, it’s cold. So cold. I, I, ahh… fuck. So you’re saying I should feel sorry for living in a place like this? I should be living in poverty if I’m going to go to an alternative school? Seriously, what are you saying, what’s your point, what do you mean, seriously, you haven’t given me one decent explanation of why you’re threatening to kill me. Seriously, Crystal! Seriously, this is ridiculous. What do you want from me? What the fuck do you want? What?! I’m cold. Crystal…I’m begging you. Please. Please. My leg hurts so bad it feels like it’s coming off, and then it feels like it’s not there anymore, and my arm is numb too. I’m cold. I’m dizzy. I’m going to throw up. I’m going to throw up.”

  “…What are we going to do with you?… You don’t understand anything I’ve… Amazing…. Unbelievable.” Crystal’s mouth hangs open in a shocked look. But the next moment her face turns icy. “Look, Mina, I really feel sorry for you. You’re so messed up in the head. What else can I do but…? Why are you smiling?”

  “Because you’re funny.”

  “I don’t love you anymore. And I’ve decided to kill you. I’m not sure which one came first. But it’s true that I once loved you and it’s true that I’ve now decided to kill you. Go ahead and smile—it’s better than crying. I want you to die with a smile on your face. I’d hate to see you crying then. I really tried to remain hopeful. I really tried to change…to change you….

  “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh….

  “Mina.

  “I’m going to have it all. I’m going to take everything I need, and I’m going to get rid of anything I don’t need. I’m not going to leave anything behind. Am I scaring you? Or do you just think I’m funny? You’re shivering. You’re pale. Your leg’s still bleeding. Wow, look at all that blood. I can’t believe you’ve been bleeding all this time. You’ve lost a lot of blood but you mostly look the same. It’s amazing, I’ll have to weigh you after you die. Tell me, what do you think of me? I’ve always wondered, but you’ve never really told me. It’s strange, but I guess I know why. You dissed me, you know, and today you’ll pay the price. I worry about what others think of me. You look so sad. It’s because you’re a reject. Oh, I get so frustrated looking at you. I don’t want to think about it. I’m gonna kill you. I’m gonna kill you. I’m gonna kill you. Mina? Can you believe it? Do you believe I can? Do you? You don’t. I don’t either. And…that’s why…that’s why…oh hell, there’s so much I want to say, but I’ll skip it and just kill you instead.”

  Suddenly a thin white ray of light is emitted from Crystal’s brain. She feels as if a large hammer has tapped her in the back of her head. She sees the light glinting off the knife blade and she flinches. She looks around and all she sees are sleek surfaces reflecting the light.

  “Who turned on all these lights? Why’s it so bright?”

  Her wide eyes come to rest on Mina. She stares, her face empty. Mina is a mass of glittering, blinding molecules. The molecules move on wisps of air, coming apart and reforming, and within them Crystal sees Mina’s blood and bones and flesh. Mina’s expressions, gestures, and movements no longer seem human. Instead, Crystal is aware of a kind of flow of constantly changing geometrical patterns. And she watches Mina’s blood-red heart, previously hidden beneath her skin and clothing. The pumping is beautiful…. Even Crystal can sense that. It’s so red, charged with blood, forever moving… plump, warm, strong, and pliable. It occurs to her that she could close her fist around it and splosh. She slowly lifts her hand…then lowers it before approaching Mina. Mina gets up. The gli
ttering molecules trickle off of her into a pile on the floor. Crystal, smiling faintly, can’t keep her eyes from the trickle.

  “Where are you going? Sit. It’s all coming back. I remember it all. All the time I’ve spent with you. The happy days and the shitty days. I think I’ll keep them. It’s nice to have good memories. Look at those big old stars, look at the moon. Let’s pray. Come on. Where are you? Pray. Let’s do what’s most urgent first. Then we’ll think over what’s next. In our case, goodbyes. What are you doing? Come on, it’s time to say goodbye. I bet you wish you were in your closet now. I went inside your closet once, for you. Let’s go get in your closet together. Then if anyone asks Crystal what she did for dear, departed Mina, she can say she went into her closet with her. Hey, that’s it! That takes care of everything! We’re all set, then. Right? Are you with me? You don’t have to answer, just nod. All right. Come on. Nod. That’s right. If you can do it, I won’t kill you.”

  Mina nods.

  “All right. Excellent. Thank you so much. As for anybody else—let them think whatever they want. Let them. I’m normal. Normal enough. I’m not crazy. I’m in my right mind, right? Right? Then nod. Right? Just nod and I won’t kill you.”

  Mina clutches the sofa with both hands, trembling. Tears run from Crystal’s eyes.

  “No. No crying. Don’t feel sad. Don’t be sad, Crystal. Be stoic when I kill you. Nod for me, Mina. Nod your head. You’re still alive. You don’t want to die, right? So show me. Show it. Ask me not to kill you. Beg for your life. Come on. Why can’t I feel you anymore? Come on. Tell me why you want to live. I need to be moved. Please. Why don’t I feel sorry for you? Why do I feel you’re worth about as much as a pencil? You’re nothing, are you? Right? Tell me. Tell me there doesn’t need to be a reason to kill, just like there’s no reason to die, okay? Tell me. Nod. Can’t you shiver any more than that? Mina, I don’t have a reason. Nothing. That’s me. I’ve lived without one till now and I’ll go on the same way. Don’t ask me. Don’t ask me why. Got it? Then let’s hear you say something.”

  Mina’s still in motion. The molecules flow and pile, gather and disperse. Crystal can’t believe what she’s seeing. She closes her eyes tight and opens them again. They’re still there. In order to believe it she stabs Mina. Eyes closed, she thrusts as deeply as possible, up to the hilt, feeling the blade move through Mina’s body, her blood vessels and muscles, hearing it enter and then leave her body. Her mouth opens into a faint smile. Blood spurts from severed arteries, splattering her T-shirt and leaving wedge-shaped splotches sprayed on the windows and an exclamation-point smear on one of the peacock’s wings. A thick rivulet creeps along the floor. Mina’s screams and the noise of the metal working through flesh are impossibly distant; Crystal still can’t believe it. Looking at Mina’s gaping mouth, she keeps stabbing. But she still can’t believe it.

  “My head’s been killing me, and it’s because of…you. All this time…I couldn’t do anything and it’s because of… you. You were the obstacle. I was always looking behind me, always thinking, always wondering, and it was because of… you. You were always figuring out ways to lie to me. Why, Mina? I want to cry but I’ll smile instead. Crying is for losers. For people who deserve to be ridiculed. It makes things complicated, it turns you into more garbage, you become the obstacle. I’ve removed the last obstacle and now I’m running. Crystal. Running to the finish line. I, Crystal, am running. Run, Crystal! Win, Crystal. You’re not breathing but don’t forget. I won’t. Okay? Then give me a nod. Give me a nod and say yes.”

  Blood-draped Mina slides to the floor. Her limp ankle is fair and sleek, no longer a collection of molecules dispersing and reforming. Crystal backpedals in fear. The background quickly dims. Far away, Madonna’s song. Crystal sings a song of her own:

  But she bows her head

  But she bows her head

  We can see her face no more

  We’re sad but we won’t cry

  Won’t cry, we’re sad

  Getting sadder and sadder

  The day is dark and we can’t see anything

  We see nothing, nothing

  That’s why we’re glad, we’re glad

  “I’ll give you an example of something everybody says. Here it is: ‘You get ahead by stepping on your friends’ backs.’ Or ‘I’m feeling smothered.’ Metaphors, right? Nothing to them. I need something real. I step on your hand and I crush it. No metaphor. I actually step on your hand. What if I actually did that? What would happen? What, really, is the difference between actually doing those things and doing them metaphorically? Now I know. There’s no difference. I don’t feel anything. There you are dead, but I don’t feel a thing. I feel you less, now that you’re dead, than when you were alive. And that’s a great ending.”

  Crystal strokes Mina. Suddenly the world silently shrinks. And with its cheerful, three-note warble the front door opens. Crystal looks toward the door. It’s Minho.

  “Hey, Minho. I did it.”

  She greets him with a bright smile.

  Minho looks at her and he smiles too. The two smiling faces are like mirror images. Heads down, they examine the corpse lying between them, and when they look up they’re still smiling. One corpse. Two smiles. Incalculable darkness.