Chapter Text
Kim Dokja stares at his phone, screen cracked and case yellowish from use. He can't concentrate on reading the new update of a webnovel he'd recently found, his fingers unconsciously bringing down the notification bar and going back to the webnovel.
He knows what he's looking for. He just doesn't want to acknowledge that.
His stomach grumbles from hunger, but he doesn't have the appetite to eat anything. His body aches in more ways than one; bruises color his pale skin and it looks like a sick version of the night sky, where instead of shining stars, there are only wounds present—red and angry.
Later, a ping resounded across his dark room. Kim Dokja jolts from where he's sitting, startled awake by the quiet sound. He doesn't know when he had drifted off and he wishes with a heavy heart that he shouldn't have woken up again.
"Happy birthday, Dokja-ya." The text simply reads, and his eyes burn not for the reason that his phone's screen is too bright. Then, he received another text which reads: "I have sent another package on your way. Text me if you received it."
He waits for the last text.
"I love you."
He grits his teeth, tears brimming his eyes. He should be happy; he should be grateful. But why is there only guilt and hatred in his heart?
He thinks back on the reason why he's celebrating his birthday alone. He desperately recalls his mother leaving her 8 year old son to their extended family, claiming that she needed to go far to help sustain him financially. His mother was already gone when it dawned to him that he'll never see her for years after that. He had cried then.
At first, he was desperate to feel warmth from his mother through messages and calls. But as time passes, like everything else, there was an inevitable change in their relationship. Kim Dokja was distant to his mother. The messages and calls were not as frequent as he'd like to.
He felt like an ungrateful child—his extended family made sure he knew that. He wanted to feel close to his mother like they had once used to, but what does he know other than the feeling of betrayal from his mother leaving him alone?
He was just a child who wanted his mother back. Kim Dokja is not sure if he feels the same now.
He considers leaving his mother on read and just sleep, but he hesitates. Instead, he texts back: "Thank you, mother." He deletes the 'I love you too' for it had felt way too hollow and personal for Kim Dokja to send.
Kim Dokja then turns off his phone as well as his emotions and climbs into his bed, his thoughts bothering him for the rest of the night until his mind became exhausted enough to let him sleep.