Paperthin Hymn

Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE

I winced as I was slammed against the school wall, barely keeping my head from ramming into the hard brick. Jiyong smiled down at me, his pride at being at least seven inches taller shining down on me like some evil satan-beam.

“Hey there, Chibi-san,” he said menacingly. “Where you going?”

Crap. Chibi-san? How long was he going to tease my love of anime? What kind of an insult was that? He didn’t even pronounce the ‘-san’ right.

I pushed my glasses up my nose with my index finger, scanning the schoolyard for help but it was empty, reminding me of a graveyard. This was my own fault for falling asleep in class. I focused on his left eyebrow and I took a deep breath. I concentrated on keeping my voice steady. “H-home. J-just home.”

Fail. I sounded like a goat.

“Really now.” Jiyong’s eyes were lifeless and blank as always. He jerked his head to shake his shaggy blond hair out of his pointed face. “Anything good in your backpack?”

Of course not, I didn’t have anything ‘good’ left. Already he had taken two of my cell phones, three comic books, and my mp3 player. I had learned my lesson. “N-not really.”

He pulled me away from the wall and yanked my backpack off and shoved me to the ground. I hissed as sharp gravel cut into my palms.

He turned my backpack upside down, dumping its contents. He kicked through it with his dirty, ripped shoe but found nothing that interested him. His eyes fell on the library book I had just checked out: Christopher Paolini’s Eragon. One side of his mouth pulled up in a grin and he snatched the book up. He began ripping out the pages.

“Have fun paying the late fee,” he smirked as the sheets fluttered down beside me. He scanned me up and down. “I ought to give you one good punch, just to make my day better.”

My stomach lurched as grabbed my by my collar and pulled me up, my breath coming in short gasps. Crap. He was finally going to hit me. He had never punched me before, or hurt me at all besides the occasional thump to the forehead. I had kind of gotten the feeling he never crossed that line. Wrong-o.

He raised is fist and my heart flipped and pounded. I gulped down the lump in my throat and took a deep breath, waiting for impact.

It never came.

A yelp from Jiyong, and a thud as he slumped to the ground, unconscious. I blinked in surprise.

In front of me, hand still outstretched, was a horrified, wide-eyed girl. Before I had time to take her in, she bent down and quickly stuffed my books into my backpack. I gazed down at Jiyong in utter shock. How in the world - ?

He moaned, his eyes fluttering open.

The girl straightened herself and fumbled with my backpack’s zipper, almost unable to get it closed for her shaking hands.

“Come on!” She squeaked. She grabbed my wrist and started running.

I’m a terrible runner. I was never athletic, seeing as I’m pretty short and kinda pudgy. I never played sports after I got into high school. Plus I wasn’t very focused at the moment. All I could think was WHAT THE HECK. Who is this girl and how on EARTH did she knock Jiyong out? It wasn’t until she yanked me around a building and into a convenience store that I realized he had been chasing us. We ducked down beside an ice cream chest under a window. I held my breath for about 30 seconds, listening. Would he find us? After a minute my heart started to slow its pounding. I leaned my head against the buzzing cooler and sighed.

“That was close. I didn’t think he would be able to get up that fast.”

I whipped my head to the side, finally able to get a good look at my savior. Her voice was surprisingly high pitched. She seemed very young, with giant green eyes and brown hair that would probably be curly if it weren’t so tangled. She grinned at me, her smile so bright it made me wish I had sunglasses. I grinned back at her. Then it hit me.

I just had my butt saved by a girl.

Embarrassment was not a strong enough word to describe my feelings in that moment. I was mortified.

I quickly stood and took a step back. “Uh…”

She got up as well and dusted off her skirt, which was made almost entirely of patches. To my absolute horror, she was at least two inches taller than me.

“Are you alight?” she asked, her eyes filled with genuine worry. “Your hands—”

“I’m fine,” I snapped. She was taken aback by the harshness in my tone, her round mouth parting slightly in shock.

My shame was quickly being replaced by fury. I would have been fine without her. Even if I couldn’t have saved myself, the punch would have been better than this.

I stormed out of the store, noting the cashier guy had been watching with raised eyebrows. My face turned a deeper shade of red.

The girl ran out after me and grabbed my sleeve. “Wait a second, I-“

Angrily I pulled my arm away and headed towards home, not looking back at her.

“Wait! I- I’m sorry!” Desperation was in her voice and this time she gripped my hand. “I was just trying to-“

My scraped palms stung at her touch and my pride couldn’t take anymore. Without thinking I turned around and pushed her. Everything seemed to go in slow motion. She fell backwards, catching herself with her elbows. A whimper of pain escaped her lips, and for a moment she just stared at me in shock. Then it happened.

Her lip began to quiver, like a little kid’s, and her giant eyes filled with tears.

Crap. Crapcrapcrapcrapcrapcrapcrap.

I fled.

Like a complete whimp turned on my heels and headed quickly towards my house. But I couldn’t deny the guilt that was already starting to gnaw at me. I pushed a girl. And made her cry. I had always been taught to never, ever hurt a girl.

But she was asking for it, I thought, trying to justify my actions. Acting like we’re friends or something. But that was such a stupid excuse. You’re such a jerk, Seung-hyun. Suck it up and apologize, idiot.

It took me a few more seconds to slow my pace and finally build up the courage to turn around and face her, but when I finally did she was gone.

Crap. I sighed, angry at myself, but slightly relieved that I didn’t have to talk to her again. I started walking away, my head hung low in shame.

I heard a bell ring and tennis shoes slapping against sidewalk, getting louder as they came towards me. I turned.

It was her. I watched in surprise as she ran from the store to me, tears streaming down her cheeks. She stopped in front of me, eyes on the ground.

“Um, I-” I began, but before I could finish she shoved something to my chest. I barely caught it before she ran away.

“Hey!” I yelled, but she didn’t turn back. I thought about going after her, but she was really fast. I would never catch her.

I looked down at what she had given me; a fudgecicle. On the wrapper, written in sloppy handwriting with a black marker, were the words ‘I’m sorry’.

I groaned and sank even deeper into self-loathing. She was only trying to help. I had known that all along; I was just so embarrassed. I was never really angry at her; I was angry at myself.

I ripped open the wrapper and licked the popcicle. It was slightly melted and had indentions of my fingers where I had held it. As I moped home, finding a slight comfort in the ice cream, I had no idea that my life had just changed drastically.

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