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  *Warning: characters in this story are not related to any that are in real life. This is purely fiction. There are disturbing scenes of violence, self-harm, child abuse, mentions of depression and anxiety. If you're triggered by these concepts I advise that you don't read this.*

Seungmin gazed blankly at his reflection in the mirror. Pale skin, his bones showing through the skin peeking from beneath his torn shirt, bruises blooming all over his arms and legs. Blood was spilling out of the cuts which were mainly on his forearms and they were so deep that you could almost see bones peeking through.

Useless. Weak. Now you understand why no one likes you? Just look at yourself.

"Seungmin. Come here." an eerily disturbing voice echoed through the house. Seungmin flinched slightly and walked towards the stairs. "hurry up." the voice spoke in a slightly annoyed and angry tone Seungmin knew he wasn't supposed to mess with. He brisked slightly faster down the stairs and to the living room.

He saw his father, messed up from all the alcohol as usual, sitting down on the couch with a psychotic expression on his face. He's been drinking more than yesterday, Seungmin thought.

Seungmin slowly kneeled down in front of his father, waiting for instructions. "You sly fox," his father said, grabbing the empty bottle of alcohol. Seungmin internally winced, knowing he was going to be hit again. But he was used to it. "I give you shelter, education, and let you be a burden to me, and you repay me by being useless?" His words were becoming more and more slurred now, signifying that the alcohol was getting to him. Seungmin stayed quiet, knowing what would happen if he spoke.

His father smashed the alcohol bottle to the side of Seungmin's face, earning him a deep cut to his cheek. Blood oozed out all the way down to his neck, as Seungmin winced a little, trying to hold in cries of pain like he always would. Numb. Useless. Ugly.

His father got up and went to his room upstairs, kicking Seungmin as he did so. Seungmin fell to his side, clutching his already bruised waist in pain. He hurt me less than he did last time, Seungmin thought as he tried to get up, almost tearing up when his knees gave up on him and pushed him to the floor. Nevertheless, he held onto the couch and dragged himself up and pushed himself to his bedroom: his escape from him.

Seungmin gazed at the blade on the bathroom sink as he went inside to take a shower. His hands trembled awfully because of how weak he was, starving and hurting for months. It hurt. It hurt so much. He needed to get rid of it. He didn't know what hurt, physically or emotionally or mentally, maybe all three, he just needed to get it out.

He was so useless he just wanted to die.

Seungmin gazed emotionlessly at the newly opened cuts on his arms. They looked so bad he probably needed to go to the hospital, but he didn't care. It would be better if he just left.

Seungmin staggered to his old, creaky bed, where he was working on his artwork to get into a university. I mean, it was not like they would accept him anyway. But why not try when he was gonna go anyway, right?

Drawings, old and new, we're spread across the mattress. Art was his escape, something where he could put his feelings into without saying a word, without lying and just being himself, and he could let his audience interpret what he meant by themselves. He gently took the piece he had been working on to enter the university, which was a shaded realistic drawing of a silhouette sitting by the edge of the water in a magical island.

Seungmin took the drawing and placed it carefully in a beat-up envelope. He put on a jacket, which covered his wounds successfully, and hoped the area was isolated so that no one would notice the state of his legs. He remembered to wear his black mask, so no one saw that his lip was bleeding.

He tip-toed downstairs, careful not to give his father a sign that he was awake and not unconscious. Seungmin somehow made it to the post office and successfully mailed his work. He made it back to the house and his room, flopping down on his bed, wondering when it would end. For the first time in years, he let a tear slip out, and he clapped a hand over his mouth to make sure he doesn't sob.

Weak. You can't even hold in your tears? Deal with it. You deserve this.

Seungmin closed his eyes slowly, ready for another turbulent night.

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Seungmin's eyes fluttered open. He glanced at the old, black digital clock and the red digits glared up at him. 07.23 a.m. The sky was still slightly dark. He winced as he tried to push himself up and walked downstairs to get himself something to eat at the local convenience store, because he might not get anything to eat for the rest of the day.

As he walked along the concrete pathway which was lit up by the flickering street lights, he thought about how he practically did nothing productive other than draw during the holidays after he graduated high school. Slightly weird considering his situation, but whatever.

He reached the convenience store and bought some instant soup, quickly eating it and making his way back. He had no idea what his unpredictable father wanted form him today, although he mostly beats him up, and that thought just makes everything slightly more terrifying, although he had accepted his fate by now.

He reached the house, stopping by the mailbox to see if he had gotten any mail. He saw an envelope with the 'Stanford University' logo. Seungmin tilted his head in confusion. He couldn't have gotten accepted, right? I mean, he thought that the drawing was pretty average, it definitely was nothing compared to other applicants. Maybe it was the wrong house?

Seungmin took the envelope and got a closer look. Nope. It was definately addressed to him. What...?

He decided to get a closer look at his room, so he top-toed upstairs again, not wanting to get caught. He failed.

"Where do you think you're going,"

Seungmin looked behind to see his father holding a leather belt, staring at him maliciously. His eyes travelled to the envelope in Seungmin's hand. Seungmin panicked. He couldn't.

"What's that,"

Seungmin's heart punded against his chest. He didn't know why he needed this so bad. He just did. He felt the need to protect it.

Do you deserve it, though?

Seungmin ran upstairs as fast as he could, his father's shouts muffled in his ears as he clutched the envelope to his chest. It hurt so bad, but he didn't care.

Seungmin made it to his room and pushed a chair to the door, pushing the chair as hard as he can against it to make sure he doesn't enter. He hasn't done anything like this before. It felt... Different.

"You useless piece of ***! I took care of you and gave you shelter! I took you in even though you're useless!"

Seungmin felt a lump at his throat. Not again.

"Just go and die!"

Seungmin felt a tear roll down his cheek and curled up into a ball, hugging his knees to his chest.

I'm trying. Don't worry. I'll leave this place soon, and then I'll leave everyone alone.

I won't be a burden anymore.

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(sorry it was cringey I'm a horrible writer heheh)

(anyway, stay safe ɷ◡ɷ)

protecting you no matter what - seungchan (stray kids) Where stories live. Discover now