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"You're nothing."

"You deserve nothing."

"You're a mistake."

"Why are you even alive?"

"You're nothing but a nuisance."

"What a freak."

"Such a waste of space."

Tears sprung at his eyes as he remembered the words thrown at him during the day. He couldn't stand it. It's been years of the same treatment, he thought it would've stopped hurting by now. That wasn't the case. All throughout his high school years, it was nothing but insults and threats being thrown at him by the same group. Nobody else seemed to mind him except them.

Wonpil didn't understand what he did wrong to make them hate him so much. Was it the way he looked? The way he acted? Just his presence? He didn't know and it frustrated him. If he knew, he could change. He could make it so their words would stop, at least in theory he could.

He was left to pretend. Pretend he was happy with the torments. Pretend that he didn't have tears sting at his eyes nearly everyday when he got to the safety of his house. Pretend that the color hadn't drained from his life at the start of high school. All he could do was pretend and hope he was a good enough actor. He desperately wished for true happiness to find its way back into his life. He wished so hard for his sadness and hurt to melt away. He wished the color could be brought back to his life, vibrant as ever.

He wasn't blind, of any sort. He was empty, deprived. Colors once held a vibrance to them, one that showed him that the world was beautiful. One that faded out as the torment faded in. The colors dulled with each word throw his way, none held a meaning any longer. With his happiness faded, so did the colors.He was left living in a world that may as well have been black and white. He didn't like it.

He tried speaking up about what was happening, hoping his words would be heard and not forgotten. To his misfortune, his words got swept with the wind, leaving his pleas for help unanswered and assumed unimportant. He gave up with time. Now he just sits and takes what they give. Letting the words hit him, letting them sink in to his tears at night. His hope for happiness and color, abandoned, forgotten with time.

Colors // y.d.w + k.w.pWhere stories live. Discover now