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I often wonder what it’s like to be those kids. Those kids who have friends to sit with during lunch, those kids whose parents spend time and care for them on a daily basis, those kids who have never had to be alone.
Would I be happier? Happier than I am now? There are barely any people who talk to me, apart from my best friend, Han Sooyoung. I have no idea why that girl actually bothers.
So I’m stuck here, bound to be nothing but a reader or watcher. I sigh, opening my book. I’m halfway through it already, and it’s really boring. The protagonist is too cliche, and the plot is hardly developed.
“What are you reading?”
Ah? It’s him. I recognise this boy. Tall, black hair, matching onyx eyes, and he’s extremely handsome. Like- really really handsome. Yoo Joonghyuk. Even his name sounds perfect.
“Ah.. nothing.”
Yoo Joonghyuk places himself beside me, as he skims through the text on the page of my book.
“Describe it to me.”
He says, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. I comply. I watch his expression as I give him a quick overview of the book, and he looks genuinely interested. That’s good, right?
Yoo Joonghyuk doesn’t really talk to me much in school, so I have no idea why he approached me.
He’s one of the popular kids, never alone, grades which I could only wish to achieve. And the owner of many medals from various sports competitions. A picture perfect kid, really.
“I see.”
That’s all he says when I finish explaining the plot. Shit. Did I bore him? Han Sooyoung always says I run my mouth too easily when it gets to a topic I care about.
“Ah.. why are you here?”
I hope that didn’t sound rude. It’s not that I hate his company, it’s just.. odd. I’ve always sat alone, and the fact that he’s here.. I don’t know. I don’t know how I feel or what to feel honestly.
“You seemed lonely. That’s all.”
I widened my eyes. He came just because I seemed lonely? Do I look lonely? I hope not. I’ve always tried my best not to grab other people’s attention. Nothing good has come from attention.
I hear the bell ring. What class is it now? History I think. I mutter a quick goodbye to Yoo Joonghyuk before hurriedly rushing off to class. I should get to class as soon as possible, before Song Minwoo and his friends notice me in the hallways.
It’s been a while since they’ve approached me, so I hope today goes the same way. Perhaps they’ve found someone new to pick on.
“Hey Kim Dokja!”
Ah.. too late.
_________________
The bathroom taps water is cold, maybe even colder than usual.
I stare at the blood coming from my gash, heading down the sinks drain. I wince as I touch the wound on my forehead, hand shaky. Class should’ve started by now.
I pull my head away from the tap, and look at myself in the mirror. I look like shit. I observe my surroundings for my backpack, hoping it’s still where I placed it. It is.
I rummage through my bag, and pull out a bandage, pasting it over the gash. I probably didn’t put it properly, but what does it matter. Not like anyone would notice.
Footsteps. Rushed ones. I hear them coming, heading into the toilet.
Before I can react, I hear a voice call out my name. I turn around, and see Yoo Joonghyuk. Ah. Does he have to see my like this? He must think it’s pathetic.
“Are you okay?”
He asks, rushing towards me. I stay quiet as he fusses over my wound. Why? Why does he care? Why doesn’t he just act like I’m invisible like everyone else?
I nearly let out a yelp as he tears off the bandage, and takes a new one from his pocket.
He carefully puts it on for me, properly this time, while gazing at me with soft eyes. Those eyes. They’re.. beautiful.
I mutter a quick ‘thank you’ before grabbing my bag and brushing past him, eager to leave before he notices the red on my face.
I reach the classroom, and nobody spares me a glance, not even the teacher, ignoring the fact that I look terrible. Then again, perhaps it’s better that I’m ignored. God knows what Father would do to me if he realises I’m being bullied.
I still recall the day when I was 6, running to my father after school, when my worksheets had been stolen by another student.
“Father..!”
I was crying, wiping away the tears which refused to stop as Father looked at me in disgust.
It was obvious he had been drinking, not that me or Mother dare to talk to him about it.
“Someone took my worksheets!”
“So?”
He grunted, before throwing an empty can of beer which shot past me, barely avoiding the tip of my ear.
“ah…”
I could feel my pupils shaking, and I was unable to give a coherent response to Father. When I finally managed to say something it was,
“I.. I thought you could help me get it back..”
This earned a cackle from my father.
“Hah! You think I’d waste my time on a brat like you?”
He stood up, stumbling towards me. He lifted me up by the collar, and raised his hand.
I tried opening my mouth to scream, but nothing came out. A bead of sweat dripped down my forehead, before I felt the impact. The impact of Fathers hand.
He dropped me, leaving me lying on the floor, cheek red, as he retreated back to the kitchen, presumably to get more alcohol.
“Fuck.. why the hell were you even born? You and your mother are just fucking living off my money.”
A few moments later, my mother appeared, opening the door to our tiny apartment.
Her eyes widened upon seeing me, tears visible as I sat on the floor, unwilling to get up. My red rimmed eyes, and the tears which were brimming, my shaky bottom lips and the way my hands were gripping the bottom of my shirt.
She quickly pulled me away to my room, without uttering a word.
That night, Mother and Fathers screams were louder than usual. On most nights, if I closed my eyes shut right and covered my ears with my hands as hard as possible, I would be able to drown out their voices. But I was unlucky sometimes, like this night.
I released a shaky breath, and imagined. Imagined what it would be like if I had been born in a different family.
I imagined my family with a mother, long blond hair, lips strawberry pink. A father with dark black hair, maybe the same length as my mother.
They would love me, educate me on the ways of the world. Be the complete opposite of my real father and mother.
But my illusion soon shattered, and I nearly let out a yelp when I heard the sound of glass breaking against an object, followed by a female scream.
I did not see my mother for the entirety of the next day.
The rest of the day went by smoothly, and I got to catch a few glimpses of Yoo Joonghyuk too.
I approached the school gates, watching as the sky was tinged with orange, sunset approaching.
I had lost track of time after doing homework in the library, but it didn’t matter. Every minute I spent outside of my home was a minute I got to avoid Father.
“Kim Dokja.”
I recognised that voice.
“Yoo Joonghyuk.”
“Are you going home now?”
I hesitated at his question. Why would he ask that?
“Yeah.”
He carefully observed my expression as he asked,
“May I accompany you home?”
Ah. So that was why. I doubted wether I had heard correctly. Yoo Joonghyuk wanted to go home with me? One of the most popular people in the school with me? Well there wasn’t really any harm in complying, was there?
It turned out that the two of us lived rather close to each other, just a few blocks apart.
When we reached my home, I bid farewell to Joonghyuk, an ounce of reluctance in my voice. I swore I could see a faint smile on his face as I closed the door, waving goodbye to him.
I heaved a sigh, as my expression returned to normal, my lips flat, eyes trying their best not to reveal any emotion. If father returned home and sees me looking even just slightly happy, the night may go worse than usual. Although I have to admit, being with Joonghyuk is not one of the many regrets I have.
I creep to my room, keeping my footsteps as soft as possible, in hopes that Father will not hear.
I successfully make it, and hear a buzz from my phone.
It’s from Joonghyuk.
- Kim Dokja.
I unconsciously let out a giggle. It’s rather cute, the way Joonghyuk greets people with their name instead of a simple ‘hi’ or ‘hello’.
- Yoo Joonghyuk.
-Are you going to school with anyone tomorrow?
-no.
He leaves me on read, although judging from his personality, that’s probably normal.
The next day, I open the front door, and see Joonghyuk waiting for me. I don’t know how long he’s been there, and he didn’t ring the doorbell, probably for the better since Father would have woken up.
Perhaps he’s waiting for someone else.
But then, his eyes catch mine, and he starts approaching me.
“Hi, Joonghyuk-ssi!”
I greet. Even if he’s not waiting for me, at least I’ll get to talk to him.
He gestured for me to follow him with a nudge of the head.
I quicken my pace to keep up with him, wearing a smile.
“Were you waiting for me?”
“Hm.”
I notice him avoid my eyes, ears the slightest shade of red. I feel a feeling a somewhat similar to pride, satisfied that I managed to catch those small habits of his. Like how he scratches the back of his neck when embarrassed.
__________________
Yoo Joonghyuk is something like an escape for me. When I’m with him, I get to forget everything else in my shitty life.
He’s someone who concerns himself with me. Most days, I follow him home, and he cooks me something, be it ramen or simply dumplings. He’s fun to be around too. He knows how to take a joke, and the reactions I get out of him are amusing,
He doesn’t mind my stupidity, and I’m able to open up around him.
“Joonghyuk-ah~”
“What.”
He shoots me an annoyed look from across the table. We were doing homework, at his house of course. I grin, happy that I got his attention.
“I’m bored. Entertain me.”
He scoffs, before replying,
“Do your homework first then we’ll see.”
“Boo.. you’re no fun.”
I can practically see a vein throbbing in his forehead. If only. If only I could stay with him forever, away from school, from my parents.
My smile falters for a split second, upon thinking this. This moment, I want to keep it in a box and lock it away, and relive it whenever I feel lonely or down.
But fantasy will always be fantasy.
“Kim Dokja, are you okay?”
I realise that I’ve been spacing out, and quickly return my focus to Joonghyuk.
“Yeah, I’m fine! And does my Joonghyuk-ah actually care about me?”
I say, mocking shock. Yoo Joonghyuk simply shakes his head, suppressing a smile.
“Sometimes I question why I befriended you.”
He mutters, as he continues writing on his worksheet. I hum, and fidget with my pen.
“Because of my amazing personality and drop dead gorgeous looks?”
I broaden my grin, as Joonghyuk’s frown deepens.
“Cmon, I know you want to laugh.”
Joonghyuk succumbs, and an ever so tiny grin appears on his face.
Yes. To lock up this moment would be wonderful.
________________
I don’t know why, but Joonghyuk seems to like me even more recently. And I don’t hate this feeling of someone finally paying attention to me. I finally have someone to eat lunch with, and Song Minwoo rarely talks to me anymore, probably because someone like Joonghyuk hangs around me.
My walks home aren’t lonely, and I hate to admit it, but.. I actually look forward to school nowadays.
And then one day. It was a normal day— nothing different from my typical routine. Recess had started. I was on the rooftop, waiting for Joonghyuk. On days when we weren’t at the field, under the same tree where we met, we would be here.
“Hey Dokja-ya!”
I lift my head from where I am sitting and see Han Sooyoung approaching me.
“I thought you might be here. Is it fine if you partner me for the science project? Sangah wants to try doing it solo.”
“Ah.. I already partnered with Joonghyuk though.”
Han Sooyoung freezes upon hearing that name, eyes widening.
“Sorry, could you repeat that?”
I frown.
“I said I’m doing the project with Yoo Joonghyuk.”
“Kim Dokja..”
Han Sooyoung eyes me warily, a terrified expression on her face. What in the world is wrong?
“Goddammit. Not again.”
She looks at me, her face somewhat desperate. She scans the area, ensuring we are alone, before sighing.
“You.. really..”
“What? What is it?”
Yoo Joonghyuk was probably gonna come soon.
She places both of her hands on my shoulders, shaking me.
“You really don’t remember?”
She cries, gritting her teeth. Why is she so stressed?
“Fuck.. there is no Yoo Joonghyuk.”
I look at her, confused. My line of sight moves to behind her, and I watch as Joonghyuk enters the rooftop.
“Shit. The doctor warned this may happen.”
What? What doctor? What warning?
“Look, Yoo Joonghyuk is a figment of your imagination, get that through to your head!”
“Ah.. ah..?”
Confusion. That was what I felt. A figment of my imagination? Of course not. Joonghyuk was right behind her.
I stumble backwards, away from Han Sooyoung. Its not true. No. It can’t be true. Joonghyuk is heading towards me. I hold my head, as memories flash through my mind. I want them to stop.
I recall it. Everything.
Ripping off the bandage from my head that day, reapplying another one by myself. Walking home alone, talking to air. Song Minwoo had never backed off, the memories were simply pushed to the back of my mind, locked away. And now they were all rushing back.
Lies. Han Sooyoung was telling lies. I refuse to believe them. I continue to back away, increasing the distance between myself and Sooyoung.
My eyes reach Joonghyuk’s again, and I give him a look which I hope is pleading. He should be able to talk some sense into Han Sooyoung.
Those memories aren’t real. Sooyoung did something to influence my brain. I am sure of that.
“Stop spouting nonsense..”
I mutter, still moving away from Sooyoung.
“Wait- Dokja! Stop moving-“
“Huh?”
And then I slipped.
________________
White walls. A smell of.. soap or a cleanser? It was torturous to move my head, but from what I could see, I was wearing a hospital gown, a bandage wrapped around my head.
A doctor had come, and she said that I would be admitted to another hospital soon, once my wounds healed. I didn’t catch the name of the hospital, but from what the doctor described, it’s sounded heavenly.
I won’t have to see my parents, and I wouldn’t have to attend school, and I could laze around most of the day. I would have to participate in human interaction a few times, but it would be fine. Best of all, I could spend more time with my Joonghyuk-ah. It sounded like bliss.
Ah. There he was now. I watched as he opened the door, entering the room.
I smiled, taking all my strength to give a slight wave to the boy.
He sat on the stool beside me, as silence engulfed us. He holds my hand, and neither one of us know what to say, but that was fine. As long as we were together. That was all that mattered. Even if the world crashed and burned, it would be fine.