"what would've happened if you had not found me?"
jung wooyoung whose soul he was ready to offer to the devil, found himself intrigued with the compassionate student council- choi san. he was perturbed, he didn't want the latter openly giving him l...
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"If you're a bit scared you're living on edge It's hard to escape your worries If you wanna hide, you're losing your mind"
"You gotta lean on somebody I'll be that somebody for ya Thousand miles, it don't matter When you're feeling under pressure Say the word, I'll be there" -one day at a time (ateez)
꒷꒦ ; ch. 00: his beginning of life
the small boy who had barely grasped the meaning of the world, the ways and the wonders of it, had already reached the point where he could only question his existence.
he had woken up, not from a sweet dream where he was pampered dearly by his parents, not from a dream where he played tag with his neighbors' kids, not from a dream where he would come home from school with his favorite snacks on the table. but to a barbarous waking world, a world where he was separated from the candied fantasies he was fed by the bed-time stories he had read to himself.
like there was a barrier in between, where he could only wallow in misery while on the other side of the wall was full of color and gaiety. laughters and jests resounded in that side, giggles and chuckles filled the already bouyant atmosphere.
happiness, ease and comfort. those were the words the boy associated the other side with.
but his side? mournful cries and poignant weeps hang in the thick air, the murky ambience was suffocating the young boy. menaced by fogs of uncertainty and mists of gloom, he was rendered hopeless. he couldn't see past the muddled panorama.
he couldn't see, but he could hear and paint a picture of what the other side could be. he was envious, but perhaps he deserved all these; to be sundered from the sterling side of the wall when risque vines roamed his quivering body, tainting him with filth, tarnishing his unsullied soul.
imprinting into his brain for as long as he decides to keep on breathing. his scars and bruises are there to remind him of what had happened, to remind him he was nought. to pull him back down when he decides to make an effort to step out of the torment he'd been suffering.
he was scared and he had lost all his will to continue. that night was barren, few cars drove past him, motorcycles speeding past the boy who had his arm hanging by another young boy's hands.
his hair stuck to this forehead, damp and unkempt. his eyes blurry from all tears he had shed, his hand trembled. digging his nails into the other boy's arms in an attempt to make him let go.
the river beneath them was tranquil and pacific, in contrast to the two boys above. the water glistened under the moonlight, few lights from the buildings were reflecting on it as if it was decorated with stars that shone brightly. the waves gently crashed ashore, as if inviting the struggling boy to come with him. as if telling him, he was free there. he can take a rest from all that's happening in his unhappy life.
