Dorm 222 | DOWOO

8:53 pm

For the past month, Jungwoo and I had gotten pretty close. Sometimes just hanging out after school and sometimes calling each other because we're bored.

It had actually felt like there was still hope for my life. Like there was a light in the darkness, a light that screamed joy and brightness.

Although life was okay outside my house, it didn't mean it was going okay at home. It had gotten worse there.

My mom got fired from work and started drinking heavily. Every night I had to listen to her weird speeches and yelling. She blamed me for losing her job and how her life sucked because of me. Not like she hasn't said those things before but it still hurts every time.

Every time she said something like that, it was like a small sting in my chest. When there's enough of those small stings, it would become a big constant pain. A pain nothing cures anymore, but a pain you can easily hide.

-

It was spring break. Everyone was happy to get out of school for a couple weeks, but I wasn't. It just meant that I had to be home even more.

I arrived home at the usual time. About 9 pm. I usually spent a couple hours out after school so I didn't have to rot at home.

"And where have you been again? You're always home so late!" My mom was greeting me so kindly right at the door.

"Went for a walk, didn't want to bother you." I replied and went straight to my room.

"Thank you for thinking about me once! I can't wait until you move out." She yelled after me. Well that's nice to hear from your own mother isn't it?

I took a quick shower before locking myself to my room. I stared at my body in the mirror.

I had lost weight once again, you could almost see my bones. My skin was so pale you could mistake me for a vampire. My hair had started to fall out, gladly it wasn't still noticeable. The only good thing was the scars that had healed pretty well. I actually haven't touched a single blade for three weeks.

Jungwoo still didn't know about my struggles or why I had hurt myself. He never asked about it. It could be because he didn't care, or that he knew I wouldn't be comfortable talking about it. I'm really grateful for him whatever reason it was. Because if someone then me is uncomfortable talking about feelings.

I had gone to his dorm everytime I felt miserable. And he had opened the door every time. He comforted me. He made me feel better, like I was worth something. Every time.

Something about him was different. He made me feel things. Good things. Every time I saw him smile or heard his voice, I felt a spark inside. Like everything would get better. Like it was just the two of us in this world. Like nothing else mattered.