- A STORMY NIGHT
MINGI. “PUPPY” SONG.
MEGAN “SUGAR” STONE.
MINGI gazed up at the sky, watching as it grew darker with every passing second. He could sense the storm approaching, the air thick with the promise of rain. Mingi had been walking for hours, his body worn and tired, so he was relieved to have found this building offering shelter from the approaching storm. He had been waiting what felt like forever, though there were only a few people ahead of him in line. He was next. Mingi could barely stand it any longer—his feet throbbed, like they were pricked with needles, his back ached in waves, and his eyelids drooped lower with each passing second. All he needed was a moment of rest, even if just for a minute. Eating or showering could wait—sleep was the only thing on his mind.
Mingi rubbed his hands together in anticipation as he watched the next person step up. He tilted his head to the side, squinting, his vision blurry from his poor eyesight. As if that wasn't enough, Mingi was also deaf. He saw the shelter intake worker and an elderly homeless man exchanging words, but he was too far away to read their lips. Mingi focused on their facial expressions and body language. The worker seemed sympathetic, while the elderly man appeared angry.
What could have happened? Mingi wondered.
The few homeless people around him were growing frustrated, mirroring the elderly man's anger. Their shoulders slumped, eyebrows furrowed, and frowns deepened. Mingi looked around, more confused than ever. Mingi looked around, searching for someone he could tap to hopefully get some answers. He decided to approach the friendliest face he could find. Hesitant and shy, he gently tapped the woman, who appeared to be around his age. She whipped around, her face twisted in annoyance. Her mouth moved rapidly, and Mingi could tell she was yelling at him.
He quickly held up his hands in apology, offering her an apologetic look, before leaning slightly forward and tapping his ear. Then he formed an "X" with his two index fingers—a subtle gesture to signal that he was deaf.
The woman raised an eyebrow in confusion, threw her hands up in frustration, and stormed off.
Mingi frowned, disheartened. Did she understand? Or did she just not care? He continued to try reaching out to others one by one, but each person responded with the same standoffish, aggressive attitude. He couldn't hold it against them—after all, they had all been waiting for hours, and anyone would grow restless and irritable. Mingi himself was at his wits' end.
Standing alone outside the shelter, Mingi watched as the female intake worker gathered her belongings and prepared to go inside. When she noticed him standing there, she paused and began speaking.
Mingi tilted his head and made the same gesture he had with everyone else, signaling that he couldn't hear. The worker raised a finger, signaling for him to wait, before quickly grabbing a pen and notepad. She scribbled something down, handed it to him, and disappeared inside.
Mingi stared at the paper, his shoulders slumping in defeat. His expression mirrored that of the other homeless people he had seen earlier—not angry, but deeply saddened. Though his English wasn't perfect, he knew enough to understand the message:
We are so sorry to tell you this, but the shelter is at maximum capacity. We are not allowing any more people inside. You will have to find another shelter for tonight's storm.
Mingi looked up, and his heart sank when his gaze landed on the big "CLOSED" sign on the door. Where would he go now? He had already passed by three other shelters, all of them at full capacity. This had been his last hope—his final chance at finding a safe place. Now, he had no idea what to do next.
Mingi looked up at the sky, wondering if the thunder was getting closer. How much longer until the rain fell? He stuffed his hands into the worn-out pockets of his jacket and resumed walking, his pace slow and steady—he didn't have the strength to walk faster. He had given up on finding an actual shelter. Instead, he was hoping to find an abandoned alley or corner where he could huddle, seeking even the smallest bit of cover. The storm felt like a ticking time bomb, and Mingi had no idea when it would strike. He wasn't even sure what time it was, but he knew it was getting close to midnight.
After about thirty minutes of wandering, Mingi found what he was looking for: an abandoned alley. He cautiously approached, inspecting it to make sure it was safe and unoccupied. Just as he took a few steps inside, things were suddenly thrown at him. He jumped back, squinting his eyes as a man and woman stood up. They looked like a couple, and the woman clung to the man as he yelled at Mingi and waved his hand, signaling him to leave. Mingi raised a hand in apology, silently signaling that he understood, and turned to continue walking for another thirty minutes.
Eventually, Mingi found another alley. Before stepping in, he bent down, picked up a rock, and tossed it into the darkness. When no one screamed or appeared, he smiled. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing. He stepped in cautiously, his nose wrinkling at the awful smell of urine and mildew. The walls were streaked with what could've been dirt or blood—or maybe both—and the floor was littered with broken glass, discarded needles, and leftover food wrappers. Mingi shook his head in disgust.
He knew he couldn't afford to be picky, but the idea of sleeping here still didn't sit well with him. He picked up a large box, wondering if it could fit around him, or if he could use it as some sort of makeshift umbrella. Sighing, he bent down to assess it, and as he did, his body froze. He felt it. The rain.
Mingi looked up just as the rain began to pour down, and the wind howled, bending trees and scattering debris. He scrambled to get the box over his head, but it offered little protection. Soaked and shivering, Mingi clung to the box, his teeth chattering.
Suddenly, something moved at his feet. Mingi looked down and saw a small cat limping on three legs, likely also searching for shelter. His heart ached for it.
"This box will do you more good than me.” He thought. Gently, he propped the box over the cat, shielding it from the rain. The cat seemed satisfied, and Mingi smiled softly as he rubbed its cheek. But when he looked up, his eyes landed on a ladder leading up to a house.
If only, Mingi thought. If only he could climb up there and get a decent night's rest. He would never steal anything or harm anyone—he just wanted to sleep and leave in the morning.
The thought lingered for a moment, but Mingi quickly shoved it from his mind.
It's wrong, he reminded himself.
He stared out at the road, the wind growing angrier, when suddenly a tree snapped and fell. Fear shot through Mingi, and he instinctively backed toward the ladder.
Just this once? He wondered.
Summoning all the strength he had left, Mingi grabbed the metal rungs of the ladder, his fingers trembling. He climbed up, each step a growing regret, but by then it was too late to turn back. He reached the top and pried open the window, relieved to find it unlocked. He slipped inside as quietly as he could, hoping he hadn't made a huge mistake.
Mingi thought the safest option was to make loud noises—if someone was nearby, he could quickly escape. He tried to stop his feet and bang on the wall, waiting for a response. After a moment, nothing. No one came, and there were no lights. He repeated the action, stomping harder and pounding his fist against the wall with more force. Again, he waited, but no one burst through the door, and no lights flickered on. Mingi smiled to himself, relieved.
No one was here, and Mingi was sheltered from the storm. But guilt weighed heavily on him as he gazed out the window, wondering if he should just leave. Yet, the warmth of the house and the comfort of finally being able to sleep kept him from doing so. With a sigh, he locked the window.
Mingi still felt the sting of breaking and entering, so he decided to sleep on the floor in the corner, just for an hour or two, until the storm calmed down. He wasn't sure what he would do if he was caught, but he could only hope the person would show him mercy.
Mingi blinked rapidly and froze as he felt something cold pressed against the back of his head. A gun? His mind raced. He quickly raised his hands, heart pounding. Who was behind him? Whose house had he broken into? What if he died? It would be his fault for breaking in, but he still didn't want to die.
Mingi tried to turn around wondering if they were talking, he just wanted to inform them that he was deaf. As soon as Mingi turned around he was met with hard kick in the knee as he fell on both of his knees. Mingi felt a kick to his back as he fell from his knees on to his stomach as he now laid out on the floor. He was frightened and scared, but the kick felt sharp and pointy, a high heel? A women? He broke into a women's house? Mingi felt even more guilty. Mingi stayed as still as possible as he felt the women's foot go under his stomach and kick him over as he turned over.
It was too dark to see clearly, but Mingi could make out that it was a woman—a tall, Black woman, at that. Her lips moved, but the words were lost in the shadows. Mingi tried to gesture to his ear, hoping to signal that he was deaf, but she squeezed the gun tighter and took a step forward. His heart raced. She didn't want him to move.
“D-D-D-e-e-a-f." Mingi managed to stammer, though he rarely spoke and felt insecure about his speech. But his life was on the line, so he pushed his anxiety aside. The woman kept the gun trained on him as he shook his head, blinking away the tears. He was terrified—shaking with fear, drenched, cold, and starving. He felt an overwhelming sense of guilt, but all he wanted was one good night's rest. Just one. "I-I-I-I, D-D-D-e-e-a-f-f.”Mingi tried to speak again, hoping his pronunciation wasn't too bad for her to understand. The woman quickly holstered her gun, then bent down close to his face, turning on a flashlight. She came into full view.
"She's beautiful.” was the first thought that crossed Mingi's mind. He knew it wasn't the right time to think about that, but it was the first thing that came to him. She was right in front of him now, tapping her lips as she studied him.
“Can you read my lips?”Mingi quickly nodded able to read her lips now that he could see.
“How did you get in here?" Mingi looked up at the window as he noticed the women roll her eyes and kiss her teeth. The women then looked Mingi up and down.
“Are you homeless?" The question hung in the air. Mingi nodded.
“Let me guess, you were looking for shelter from the storm?"Mingi nodded quickly.
“So, you decided to break in?" Mingi lowered his head, his face filled with guilt, and nodded slowly.
The woman stood up, holstering her gun as Mingi quickly sat up, pressing his back against the corner. She walked toward the door and flicked on the lights. Then, she grabbed a pen and an envelope from her nightstand, walking over to Mingi. She wrote something on the envelope, and Mingi leaned forward to read it.
I should call the cops.Mingi eyes widened as he clasped his hands together shaking his head no. Mingi then gestured his hand shyly to ask for the pen and envelope to write on as the women gave it to him as he began writing.
Please, no cops. I will not harm. I don't hurt you. I promise. I'm just cold. Mingi wrote a message and slid the envelope back to her. The woman read it, but Mingi couldn't decipher the expression on her face. After a moment, she slid the envelope back to him. Mingi was both surprised and grateful for her response.
One night. When the storm is gone, you're gone. You try anything and I will shoot you.
Mingi clasped his hands together, bowing in thanks. The woman formed a small smirk before rising to her feet. Mingi stayed in the corner, watching as she walked over and bent down to face him again.
"Aren't you going to change out of those wet clothes?”
