Yoon Bi gets transferred for the seventh time because she does a mistake that feels so right; she stands up for herself, again.
She disappears three times in a blink of an eye in front of her bullies, breaking all the rules of her constitutio...
"And what is good, Pheadrus, And what is not good--- Need we ask anyone to tell us these things?" ~Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert M. Pirsig
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Yoonbi
When the bike is only feet away, my arm gets snatched by someone and we both are pulled back to the pavement just before a catastrophe happens.
The bike passes through a dumbstruck SoMin and strong hands are holding tightly onto both my upper arms.
I grimace down at the steel like grip that's hurting me, I look up to see Jimin looking at me intensely.
His eyes are glittering and there was something in them, something way bigger than what I expect a boy his age could hold.
It just happens and I'm seeing what reels inside his memory.
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Jimin stomps his way out of his friend's house. A house where he gets all kinds of illegal substances into his body.
His throat became accustomed to alcohoł, his nose breaths in heroiñ just like it breaths air. His legs forgot how to walk properly.
SoMin tries pulling these things all away, but whom is she kidding. She can't. She's just a ghost who will watch him get himself killed. Just like she did.
But, is this his fate too?
He've been on that for a few months, since SoMin left and Jimin believes he is at fault.
Only if he went with her to that party. Only if she didn't go alone. Only if he went to pick her up. Only if... Only if. Yet, he can't change anything. Can he?
Jimin walks in the dark streets and his conscious takes him to where SoMin's body was found. He'd always do that, and just stay there waiting for anyone to come.
He wants to know who killed his sister, and why? Why did they kill her of all people?
She didn't do anything!
He bends his knees and rests his back against the wall before he lets his body slowly descend down against it in the dark alley.
"SoMin... SoMin! Where are you." He talks drunkenly, "you didn't really leave right? You are still here right!" He shouts and hits the ground with his feet so hard that a bruise forms under his leather shoes.
Does he feel anything? No. Even if he does, he believes he deserves it all.
A lonely ghost of a girl cries for him to stop but she can't be heard.
