In the dark of an empty room, I lay on my bed, crying because my family was fighting and blaming everything on me. Each night, I cried and cried, feeling like there was no more happiness inside me. My family was poor. My stepdad was a miner, and my mom sold food. I was always there to help her. Every night, my stepdad would walk home drunk while I fried fish. When it was done, I would serve it at the table.
One night, my stepdad got angry because he didn't like the food I had cooked. As punishment for my "mistake," he grabbed my hand and plunged it into the hot oil I had used to fry the fish. My hand felt like it was burning, and I cried out in pain, trying to pull my hand free. Luckily, the oil wasn't as hot anymore, but I still felt the intense pain. I rushed to put my hand in cold water and cried as I saw my stepdad walking towards me. He punched me in the face.
I was 16 years old when that happened. That night, I went to bed starving and in pain, tears streaming down my face as I cried myself to sleep. Early in the morning, I woke up and went to the kitchen to cook rice and pork adobo. When I finished cooking, I ate a lot to fill my hunger. My stepdad woke up, and I started shivering in fear, expecting him to hurt me. But he just went to the kitchen to make coffee. I put on my uniform and walked toward my mom to tell her I was going to school.
Suddenly, my stepdad splashed the hot coffee on me. I shouted in pain, feeling the burn of the hot coffee. I rushed to take off my uniform while my stepdad just laughed at me. Quickly, I put on a new uniform. It was my first day of school, and my parents hadn't given me any money to spend. My siblings rode on the motorcycle, but I walked alone down the silent road to school. As I walked, I suddenly started to cry. Maybe it was because I always got abused. I wiped my tears and tried to smile like nothing had happened.
I was in grade 7. When I walked into my new classroom, I saw my new classmates watching TV. I looked around and was instantly attracted to a girl named Shane. She was cute, smart, and friendly, and I wanted to make friends with her. Every day, I went to school early to be the first student in the classroom. I would put a letter and a rose on Shane's table, then go to the school ground for the flag ceremony.
When the flag ceremony was done, I saw Shane looking shocked and asking who had left the letter and rose on her table. Nobody knew who had put them there.
This small act of kindness was my way of expressing the feelings I couldn't voice. It was a brief escape from the pain and abuse I endured at home. But each day, I hoped that one day, my kindness would be noticed and appreciated, even if I couldn't say it out loud.
I always kept putting love letters and roses on her desk. Sometimes, I even added chocolates, saving up my money to buy them. A few days passed, and while I was sitting, she approached me and asked if the handwriting was mine. I said no, but Shane's friend insisted that it was my handwriting. Nervous and unable to speak, I finally admitted, "Yes, it's mine. Sorry." I thought she would get angry, but she just smiled and said, "Thank you." It felt like butterflies in my stomach, and I felt a rush of joy. From then on, we became friends. I was always by her side, making her smile. Wherever she went, I wanted to go with her. I bought her food and did everything I could to make her happy.
One time, our friends decided to visit a classmate whose father had died. Shane wanted to come along, carrying her bag. I approached her and asked if she was okay. She said yes, but she looked tired. So, I said, "Shane, let me carry your bag." We stopped for a moment, and Shane handed me her bag. As we walked, some of Shane's friends saw us and teased, "Jeon, why are you holding Shane's bag?" Their teasing made me blush, and Shane blushed too, but I didn't care.
Suddenly, Shane was walking alone at the back. I went to her and asked, "Are you feeling tired?" Shane admitted she was a bit tired, so I said, "Let's rest for a bit. I know you have a heart problem, and I don't want you to get overtired." Shane agreed. I gave her my cold bottle of water and said, "Drink this; I know you're thirsty from all this walking." Shane smiled and thanked me. We realized we were getting left behind, so we walked faster. Suddenly, Shane grabbed my hand. We were almost at Shane's friend's house when we arrived. Shane went inside while I stayed outside, feeling shy. Some of Shane's friends invited me to join them for food, but I declined, saying I was full and listening to music.
Shane approached me, holding some biscuits and juice. She asked me to open my mouth, and when I did, she put a biscuit in my mouth. My eyes met hers, and I felt that fluttering feeling again. Shane's friends teased us, saying we were a sweet couple. Shane gave me some juice and then went back inside the house. I felt so tired from the walk that I fell asleep.
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Shadow And Smile
Rastgelethe story talks about a boy that always got abuse by his step father and the only thing makes him happy is Shane her crush in the school