Chapter Text
Little Kim stands at the end of the playground and watches the scene unfold in front of him. Little girls and boys, running around, laughters scatter on the wind. If there exist a purest form of happiness, this would be it. Mere joy of being outside and with friends, enjoying each other’s company’s and free of worldly things.
But Kim, mere age of seven, have seen more worldly things. Ugly things even most adult couldn’t fathom.
His home, silence was too loud. His dreams were red. Even awake he was surrounded by nightmares. He was just seven.
“Come on Kimhan, look at those kids, why don’t you go try to make a friend” his mom nudged him forward.
Kim with his short and small button up shirt neatly tucked inside felt out of place. And he was. He wasn’t like those kids. He had never felt carefree like them. He doesn’t remember the last time he laughed.
The doctor his mother had taken him last week had said his behavior was due to trauma. That he was withdrawing into himself because he didn’t know how else to cope with what he had witness, what he had done. He was seven after all.
Papa had given him big boy toy and took Kim with him to meet some big people. The toy gun Papa handed him was heavier than the one he played with Chan at home.
Chan would also always get up after Kim would playful shoot him with it but that man in the blue suit had not. Papa had said it was a toy and Kimhan had believed him.
So he shot the big man talking to papa cause papa told him he could before they went inside. In fact, he said he should. So he did.
The man did not get up. Then all of a sudden world exploded. Everyone had the same toy Kimhan was still holding numbly in his hand. Noise crescendo and eclipsed everything.
Kim just wanted to go home. He doesn’t remember what happened after he started screaming for his mom. All he remembers is how heavy his hand was, the man who still didn’t get up and other laying around him and how red the room was. The stillness. How every step Chan took as he carried Kim away, the Squelch of his shoes followed.
Afterwards, Kim didn’t want any toys. He didn’t want anything. He didn’t laugh. He didn’t talk. He just existed. He was seven.
He’s eight now. He heard his mom argued with his papa about Kim needing help, needing people his own age. He knew Papa had refused, yet here he was.
He could still feel the solid presence of his mom behind him. Encouraging him to keep going, to go talk to these kids in front of him. Her desperation that she might get her child back. The one who use to run circles around her, his laughters ringing in the air. One that use to beg constantly for a dog no matter how many time his papa had refused.
He’s only eight but world always seems to be dark now, stuck inside this endless loop of silent screams and bloody walls.
Suddenly something pulls on his hand. He jerks back but the warmth that seems to spread inside his cold body after so long doesn’t let go. The sudden brightness in-front of makes him close his eye for a brief second.
When he opens them, there’s a small sun in front him. Th boy has messy hair, dirt on his face and clothes, yet somehow resembles the little puppy he seen on TV, the one he use to beg for.
“Hi! I am Porchay! what’s your name?” Kim’s frozen heart skips a beat. Porchay’s all gum and teeth. His hand still holding onto Kim’s.
“Hi” Kim breathes out. His mom sniffs softly behind him. Kim ignores it and focus on the puppy in front of him.
He tilts his head to the left. He got his puppy after all it seems. Kimhan interlocks their fingers.
“I am Kimhan….Puppy”.
“Porchay! Not Puppy silly. You can call me Chay!!” Chay’s laughter is loud as he pulls Kim into the chaos. Kimhan follows.