This Molchan boy... oh, how I never realised how majorly flawed he is, tsk tsk tsk! I thought he was just simply uncaring and wanted to be all alone, arrogant—but no... I was wrong.
To be frank, I really wanted to talk to him, but it seemed like he's trying to play with me with his rather sluggish words. I could not understand what he said, much more do away with his illustrations and whatever art he's doing. Ugh, my classmates even told me to back off because he's weird! Sigh, I had no choice but to join in and laugh at his misadventures.
I remember just one day, in mathematics class—he, the crippled brother—almost messed up the whole blackboard with his upside down solutions! But I gotta say—he had the guts to answer math—although he still made flaws. And so, I volunteered to correct his problems while rewriting what he just wrote. Oh dear, how I remembered him being made fun of for writing awkwardly! Tsk tsk tsk—sigh, the little lad was still picked on by us—that he intentionally made himself absent the following day.
Then, several days passed—he still didn't make a return. Just around the first week of December did he make a comeback, with Sir Danilenko's support. My adviser became strict with us when his student returned after a hiatus, now completely aware of the situation involving us bullying the lad. Sigh, I had to undergo severe reprimanding for not being able to handle my class well, not being able to stop the bullying.
The bitter thing I regret while he was still with us at that time is that... I did nothing to help him—or at least protect him from my bullying classmates. I, being a class president, was supposed to look after everyone... especially my crippled brother. But... it appears that I overlooked him as I was doing my job. I never saw him crying or complaining—it's just what I noticed. I never bothered to ask what were his internal struggles that made him like that. When I looked at him, it felt like he wanted to seek my assistance... and I failed to help him out.
Oh, I'm so sorry, Molchan! I shouldn't have cowered whenever I saw you injured in any kind, whether emotionally or physically. I shouldn't have stayed with my friends who continued to hurt you for your illness. Oh, I'm so, so sorry, Molchan. I promise—I'll be a better person, more responsible and caring—not only to my normal fellows, but also to the lowly ones.
Oh, how I wish I could turn back time and fix this mess!
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The Golden Sculptor, Molchan Miroshnichenko: Afterthoughts
Short StoryThere he goes. Oh, how time flies so fast, and now he has left us. To the place where he called home, to the place of origin... An insight into the thoughts of people whom Molchan Miroshnichenko met during his stay in the West, their realizations ab...
