Promise

35: Healing Process

Yeosang curled into himself, creating a small ball that rocked back and forth in a panic. His back pressed against an old wall, wallpaper peeling from its surface from numerous areas. Tears made their way down his cheeks, his hands pressed into his ears like his life depended on it.

His sobs went unnoticed, breathing irregular to the point his head started spinning. He wasn't okay.

The very early teen flinched when there was a loud slam coming from outside of his room, the voices he tried to not listen to raising even higher. The screaming match continued, making his panic and anxiety even worse.

"This is your fucking fault, you were the one that took him out, so you pay for the stupid fucking medical bills!" A woman's voice screamed out, hands slamming again against a solid surface, practically reverberating around the entire tiny house.

"It is not my fault! If anything you are the one to pay, he is fucking human after all." A dominating male voice boomed out afterwards, making Yeosang swallow hard and curl further into himself. He heard the voice as if its owner was right beside him, and not through a solid wall and closed door.

"He is a fucking vampire! You take care of it." The woman returned, just as loud, angry stops bouncing through the wall.

"If he was a vampire he'd take care of himself. But he's so pathetic he can't even begin to understand how to—"

"Well he's your son."

"He's also your son."

The woman let out a scream, glass shattering seconds latter.

"There is blood coming out of his damn ears! You were the one driving recklessly, can't you see I'm already struggling to make ends meet? Just take care of the one medical bill." The woman, while lowering the volume of her voice, still seethed in anger. It wouldn't be surprising if she was foaming at the mouth, spitting with each word.

Swallowing heavily, Yeosang moved out of his ball, shaking beyond belief. He reached for the handle to his door, pulling it downward, moving the door so carefully that despite its loose and squeaky hinges, it didn't make a sound.

"What happened to all that money I sent you to take care of him? Huh?" The man retorted, now being the one to slam his hands down on the kitchen table. "Because before you know it, one medical bill will turn to two, and then three. Oh and then maybe the rent for the month can be added as well."

Yeosang had a clear view of his parents from the small crack in the door. Despite the dining room being on the opposite side of the tiny house, the doorways all lined up so he could see straight into it. On the left was his mother in her usual messy house attire, on the right his father clad in black, expensive looking jacket torn in one place. A shattered vase rests on the right side, flower petals and water splattered onto the wall, the glass shards and other remains on the ground.

Pulling himself up off the ground, Yeosang crept out of his room. He ignored the blood on his hands, the blood that previously came dripping out of his ears and decorated other parts of his body. But that didn't account for anything else he felt, the pain he was in.

"M-mom? Dad?" Yeosang croaked out, standing in the doorway of the dining room, looking between his parents.

He took a step back upon getting a glance at his father's deep red eyes, taking another back when his mom sent him a look that could kill.

"Yeosang, go back to your room." His mother commanded, arm flying out harshly, pointing back in the direction the boy came from.

"I-I have mo—"

"Go Yeosang!" His father's voice boomed out, and Yeosang swore the paintings moved off the wall just enough to thud against the surface.

Out of fear, Yeosang nodded his head, stumbling backwards, tripping over himself and falling onto the ground. He landed on his side, letting out a pained cry, but at least he caught himself before his head hit the floor.