like a volcano | minsung (and a hell lot of other ships) ✓

𝑜𝑛𝑒.

the brilliant sunshine was pouring inside the classroom. everyone was lazing on their seats, eager to hear the bell ring. the period before break always felt long.

"and that's your assignment for today. do not forget to review your lesson", mr. kim was saying. "i'll be checking it tomorrow-"

the sound of bell echoed throughout the school, indicating lunch break. "i'll be going, then," mr. kim picked up his stuff and turned to leave. "good day to you all," he said as he opened the door.
here and there students were already getting up and stretching. they were exhausted due to sitting on the rigid chairs all day long for 5 periods straight.

the boy sat up and made his way towards the school cafeteria. he was exhausted and sleep deprived, having stayed awake till 3 a.m the previous night. he planned to sit on the rooftop after quickly eating something, so that he could enjoy some music and his time alone.

he walked, all alone in the crowd of people running, laughing and shrieking. like everyday, time slowed in his eyes as he walked his pace. and quite abruptly, from afar-
"'sup, crybaby!"

he stopped in his tracks. not again, he sighed. he was specially not in the mood for this today. there they were, the gang of them, approaching their favourite punchbag. though he got this behaviour almost everyday, he still couldn't help but feel apprehensive.

"did your papa get your hands on some whore yet? or was he still drunk when you woke up?" taeyong exclaimed. the rest just laughed stupidly.
and they went too far.

"what is your business with me and my home life? why don't you just go and pick another guinea pig for a change?" he blurted out unexpectedly.
the group were still processing this newfound bravery.

"looks like the squirrel gathered some balls to mess with us", keeho said. "what a pretty sight. now let's show you exactly how it's done, eh?"

at this, sunoo laughed harshly and grabbed him by his shirt. "let's have a little fun, it's been a while since we've done that.."

there was no resisting 6 boys dragging him along them to the boys' restroom. once they locked the door, they went all out on him.
verbally abusing him.
and then doing their favourite hobby of beating him up.
and it was too much to feel at once.

once they were done, sunoo kicked his chest and spat on his face one last time before going out roaring in laughter.

so much for bravery, he thought quietly. he laid there for a while, feeling the echoing silence press in on him. he hadn't been beaten up in a week and right when last time's bruises were healing, he had new ones. the group always took care of their decorations on his body.

he got up with some difficulty, his chest aching. what a fucking loser, his head was ringing with voices again. you're all right. i am a loser. i can't even stand up for myself.
he went to the sink to wash off the blood from his wounded lips.
he walked towards his class again and barely made it on time. the bullies took up the lunch hour but he had no appetite.

and then again after the classes, another day was over. he walked home with lesser speed, hoping that home would never come. even after the eventful day at school, he did not want to go home. if his school was hell, it was nothing compared to his house.

"dad, i'm home", he reluctantly announced, receiving no sign of recognition from his father. he ran up the stairs quickly so that his father gets no time to say anything to him. upon reaching his room, he shut the door and locked it. swinging his bag on the chair, he buried himself underneath the blankets and closed his eyes.
desperately hoping that sleep would make him forget everything. sleep was like an everyday experience and reminder of death, which was what he wanted but couldn't have.

despite being 17, he couldn't help but wish that the next time he opened his eyes, he'd be in another dimension, where he was loved and appreciated.

a loud banging sound jerked him awake. he sat up quickly, confused as hell, but then he realized. his father was knocking at the door. he went to answer it.
"han jisung. come downstairs and eat with me." his father said coldly. there was a slur in his words, indicating that he had been drinking again. "i'm not hungry.", replied jisung. (which was a lie, he hadn't even had breakfast, let alone lunch).
"you're coming with me." his father said.
he went downstairs and sat at the table, where the food was placed. they ate in silence for a while. jisung was starting to feel less scared, but then his father started speaking up.
"have you studied well today at school?"
"yes", jisung replied. he didn't really know much to say.
"and what's this," his father scanned his face. "have you been fighting again?"
"no, i don't fight-"
"you dare lie to me? me, who knows you since the fucking womb? tell me, who have you been beating up?"
"no, i haven't beaten anyone. these were just.." he started desperately, looking for words. he didn't want to share his pain with his excuse of a father. he didn't deserve to know. "..gotten in the course." he finished somewhat lamely.
his dad gave a disbelieving snort. "and have you been doing that.. stupid shit again?"
jisung sighed inaudibly. music was the only thing that helped his mental health. music gave him hope and a purpose for living. music was his passion and he loved producing music.
it was his life.
but his parents hated that. he once made the mistake of showing them his first ever song. instead of being proud, they were horrified and beat him up for wasting his time on "stupid shit". it traumatized him and it gave him the lesson of never opening up to his parents ever again.

"no.. i have been studying hard." he lied, because there was no benefit in speaking the truth. "then why did i hear sounds from your room last night? you lie again? you think i'm an idiot?" his father stood up abruptly. jisung stood up too. the moment he feared was upon him again. just a bit, he thought. a little bit of pain and it'll be over.

but he couldn't help the fear.
his father picked the beer bottle. "i'll tell you how life is gonna punish you for lying to your father."

clang after clang,
his naked torso begging for relief,
his voice crying out desperately for some kind of mercy from his own biological father,
until the bottle finally broke,
every sharp piece piercing his abdomen,
this is my fate. i deserve it.
i deserve it for being a loser.

until his father passed out from too much alcohol from the night. he was drunk again, like always.
jisung was left alone. again. blood dripping from his abdomen onto his pants. the glass pieces piercing onto his soul. he couldn't take it anymore.
after a long hour of removing the pieces by a tweezer, he cleaned the wounds. it stung, but he deserved it.
he had to get used to the pain.
it was the only thing he had.

he broke down. after a whole month of fighting, he broke down. but he tried to be as silent as possible, in case his father woke up again. he cried on and on until he felt like he had no more tears.

the clock showed 3 am. again. like last night. like every night. he felt exhausted more than hurt. you start getting used to the pain when it's the only thing you feel.
maybe i'm just sad.
he looked out the window, where a faint blue line was starting to get visible along the horizon.

cause all the kids are depressed, nothing ever makes sense
i'm not feeling alright, staying up still sunrise
and hoping shit is okay, pretending we know things

i don't know what happened, my natural reaction is that we're scared..
-
guys this chapter was lame asf but the plot sounded so good in my head TT
until next time then!
with respect,
blue.
P.S: PLEASE don't be a silent reader! </3 I would love to communicate with my readers and know what they think of my story!