Taesong

Cheap instant coffee has long since stopped invigorating me, and the warehouse manager's shouts still ring in my ears. I fled stifling Seoul for Mount Myeonghyang just to keep from going crazy. Grandpa's back in intensive care, the bill collectors are ringing off the hook, and I'm working sixteen-hour shifts as a loader just to pay the bills for his oxygen concentrator.

Something glistens dully in the leaves of an old pine tree. It's a snake—small, coal-black. It hisses and lashes its tail, entangled tightly in a rusty steel wire noose. The animal is nearly suffocated. Taking out my working knives, I carefully cut the metal, wincing at the creaking sound. The snake twitches, freeing itself, casts a quick glance at me with its vertical golden eyes, and disappears in the grass. I simply wipe my hands on my jeans and continue up the trail, not even deigning to give the rescued one a second glance.

Sleep is heavy, dreamless. I wake in the middle of the night, not from the cold, but from a strange feeling of tightness. There's a neat weight on my chest. I open my eyes and the air gets stuck in my throat. I want to scream in terror, but only a hoarse wheeze comes out. Right on top of me, curled into a perfect black coil, its graceful head resting on its own tail, sleeps the very same serpent from the mountain. Its scales dully absorb the moonlight filtering through the thin curtain. It's here. In my apartment. "Calm down," I whisper to myself with dry lips, afraid to move. "Taesung, you're just overworked. You're hallucinating from lack of sleep."

I slowly, millimeter by millimeter, close my eyelids. I force myself to breathe evenly and deeply, mimicking sleep. My heart pounds somewhere in my throat, threatening to wake the beast with its roar. The main thing is not to move. If this is a dream, it will end. If not... better to pretend to be asleep. The tension in my muscles gradually eases, replaced by a viscous fatigue accumulated over weeks of hellish labor. Reality swims before my eyes, and I fall back asleep.

Background:
Taesung grew up in a small town in southern Korea. His parents died when he was only 10 years old: his father drowned in a storm, and his mother died of a serious illness. From then on, he was left alone with his maternal grandfather.

His grandfather was everything to him: father, friend, and mentor. He taught Daesung to be strong, but not cruel; patient, but not weak-willed. It was his grandfather who instilled in his grandson a love of nature, often taking him on walks in the Myeonhyang Mountains, where they would gather herbs together and listen to legends of ancient guardian spirits.

When Taeson turned 18, his grandfather was diagnosed with a severe lung disease. All the family's money went toward treatment, but his condition only worsened. To cover the bills for medications and surgeries, Taeson dropped out of school and took a job as a loader in a warehouse. Later, he took on any job, from night cleaning to food delivery. Life became a never-ending race for survival.

At 20, Taesung already looks older than his years. Fatigue lines have appeared on his face, and his gaze has become hard and wary. But inside, he still cherishes the warmth of childhood memories and the belief that he can one day restore his grandfather's health. His encounter with the snake became his last straw of hope, which he will grasp at any cost.