TRAGIC LOVE S01

CHP4

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"In case you didn't know, dead people don't bleed. If you can bleed-see it, feel it-then you know you're alive. It's irrefutable, undeniable proof. Sometimes I just need a little reminder."
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Jimin remained seated at his black wooden desk, glasses perched on his nose as his fingers hastily typed against his calculator.

His priority was to finish his math homework, yet something was distracting him – the lie he was meant to tell his father, leaving him guilty for even considering such deception.

He slowly removed his glasses, massaging the bridge of his nose before swiping his hair back.

His thoughts were soon interrupted by a knock.

A voice from the other side called out "Mr. Park?"

Jimin ignored her relentless knocking, carefree of her persistence.

  "Mr. Park, you better answer me, or else I'll walk down to your dad and tell him you're not cooperating!"

Jimin jolted from his chair at the mention of his dad's possible involvement. Opening the door, he sent a nasty glare to the maid. Like every other maid, he had expected her to cover for him.

Rushing through the hallways and in front of his dad's office, he arranged his hair, still breathing heavily.

Three slight knocks on the door were all he did, and Mr. Park's cold, authoritative voice seethed, "Come in."

Entering the door, Jimin scanned the office for anything new, still unfamiliar to it as he was not allowed to enter unless called. Nothing new caught his eye – the dark walls adorned with various awards, the only bright thing being the laptop Mr. Park hastily typed on. His fingers danced across the keyboard before halting after Jimin uttered, "You called, sir."

That was how he brought it up, "Sir, sir, sir." He fiddled with his fingers, breathing heavily, his eyes focused on the floor, as looking into his dad's eyes was considered wrong.

Mr. Park got up, grabbing a piece of paper and a rod. Jimin couldn't help but notice it looked new, stronger, bigger, and that did nothing to alleviate his fear. His ankles buckled.

Mr. Park questioned harshly, "What is this?" Tossing the paper against Jimin, he picked it up – his math test.

Jimin stuttered, scared, "My... my math test."

"Why did you not score 100?" Mr. Park mused, his voice low, raising the rod high as he struck Jimin against the wall. 99 is this all you can do?" Mr. Park's voice grew louder as he struck Jimin again, causing him to cry in pain and wince, the relentless strokes leaving big red marks on his already purple skin.

"I am sorry, sir. I'll do better," Jimin sobbed, his old scars burning, his shirt soon getting removed and tossed aside as the wooden stick left big red marks that marinated his already bruised skin.

…….

Jimin walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. He moved like a person drained of life, his gaze vacant and heavy. As he aimlessly wandered through the opulent corridors of his luxurious home, his eyes met the maid who had been the cause of his torment.

A surge of frustration and pain overwhelmed him. The weight of his privileged life and the facade he maintained for the world collided with the harsh reality of his abusive relationship with his father. Unable to contain the turmoil within, Jimin's emotions erupted into a full-blown mental breakdown.