Living Dead

Chapter 1

I kicked a can on the side of the street, blowing smoke out from between my teeth. It was 6 in the morning and I could see my breath tangle with the smoke. Not many people were awake right now. Unless they were working. But I knew one place that would be open.

I stood in front of the bookstore. Peeling paint and a vintage bell, you'd never expect to see someone like me here.

Me. Me with the cigarette and the soju. The one that is slowly going insane. The one that everyone avoided in Highschool. They knew. They all knew. Somehow they all knew my parents went mental. For no reason. One minute they were laughing and then something flickered in their mind. A spark ignited and that made them click.

I sighed and stubbed the cigarette on a wall. Guess I'd go through four today.

I pushed open the door and shut it quietly.

Nobody was at the desk most of the time. I may as well steal something, nobody would notice.

But this time when I opened the door someone was there.

"Hello~" He said cheerily, looking up from a book.

I haven't seen someone smile at me for ages. I haven't heard someones voice in ages. At least, not a calm voice. I'm so used to people shouting at me.

"Uh..." I coughed, "Hi"

I hadn't heard my own voice in ages either, I lived most of my life in mute.

The Desk Boy smiled and went back to his book.

I'm surprised I remembered how to read. I barely come here often anymore, not like I used to.

I went into a corner and sat on a chair, looking around. I wasn't here for a book. I just needed heat. Heat and time to think.

I used to have money, until I turned to cigarettes and alcohol for trust and help. I used to go to clubs and forget everything. I had nothing I wanted to remember anyway. I used to have one-night stands where I'd make myself wake up first so I had time to disappear. The world wouldn't remember me anyway. I never got ill from alcohol. I never got ill from smoking. I never got ill full stop. I didn't feel...anything.

I sat there, just thinking for a while. When I saw someone come up to me.

"You ok?"

I looked up.

"Uh...yeah.....?"

"Really? You came in an hour ago and sat down and haven't moved since" TheDeskBoy sat in a chair near me.

"I'm Jonghyun" he smiled, sticking a hand out.

I smiled slightly.

Taking it and shaking it uncertainly.

"I'm...Key" I mumbled.

"You're not ok. You smell like nicotine and don't look any better"

I looked at my feet.

"What's wrong?"

"Everything" I muttered, "I don't have money, my apartment is a piece of crap and I'm drowning my life in soju and fogging it up with smoke"

"I'll help you" Jonghyun said.

"What?"

"I'll help you, get up" he said, pulling me up.

"Ok...."

"Take me to your apartment"

I nodded, leading the way. As we left he turned the sign on the door to 'closed'

"We have to walk" I said.

"I'll manage"

We spoke the whole way there, me saying everything there is to know about me and holding back tears and him explaining his family business and life so far. We practically became best friends in an hour, making me scared to show him my apartment.

From what I remembered from the last time I went, it was a tip.

I remembered bottles all over the place and empty cigarette packets piled in crappy bins. I remembered blades in the bathroom and pills in the kitchen.

I remembered a scene that just oozed death and depression.

When we got there it was 8 o clock, I opened the door and switched the light on, hands in my pockets.

"Oh my god" He whispered, "we need to clean this, right now"