Colors of the Heart

Red

Red

Red

Red       

Wooyoungs eyes widened in disbelief as he focused on the color red that fell into tiny drops onto the ground. Where was that color coming from? A sharp pain to his head suddenly erupted and the drops of red became more rapid, falling down like a waterfall. He could hear laughter in his left ear, his right ringing with a high pitched frequencies. He had been hit, but by what?

He turned his head towards the laughter and saw five shadowy figures hovering over him. Three with weapons such as bloody pipes and bats, two with just their bare fists.

"What's the matter Jung? Can't fight anymore?" The one in the front laughed. The others chimed in again like a pack of hyennas.

Wooyoung had almost forgotten why he was pulled into the dark alleyway of Hongdae to begin with. The leader, Duri was owned money; money which his parents had left him in debt of before leaving the country.

Another sharp pain to his left rib left Wooyoung crouching on the floor. He began to gasp heavily for air as his lungs started to scream failure.

Duri lifted Wooyoungs head up by his hair and grinned devilishly at him. "Mommy and daddy left you alone to pay off their debt. I gave you four months to cough up the money. You failed to pay, so now I guess I'll have to carve out some organs  to get what I'm owed."

Wooyoung snickered. " Go ahead. Go ahead and take every organ in my body. Just make sure you don't get off while you're undressing me, you fitlhy cunt."

Another blow to the head and he was seeing doubles.

I'm ready to die. This time, I'm going to make it.

The thoughts of failure and death played over and over in his head. As his attackers continuously began to deliver fatal blows to his body, his mind had started to shut off every pain receptor.

Ah, I'm going to black out. Shit, this sucks.

He let out one last sigh as his body fell limp on the ground. He couldn't hear any of the yelling anymore, only the sound of his pulsating heart beating slower in his ear. If today was his the day he died he wouldn't care. He had been too scared to do it himself. He welcomed murder graciously. Anything to get him out of this world. The world that had betrayed him over and over again to the point he no longer saw in color. His vision was nothing but black and white just like the soul he thought should've died long ago. The only color he saw vividly now, was red, the color of his blood he constantly shed.

As his eyes began to close he could see Duri and his posse flee the scene. Running after them was what he thought were the police. Only one body ran towards him and arms lifted his body off the cold ground.

"Wooyo-" The cry was frantic, muffled.

His eyes searched for the face hidden in the shadows.

"Wooyoung, say something please!"

Wooyoung blinked hard and the face became clearer. "Yeosang.." He grunted.

Yeosang let out a sigh of relief. His facial expression still worried. "Wooyoung, can you walk? We have to take you to a hospital."

Wooyoung shook his head and touched his side. "It's broken. My lunges hurt. I can barely breathe."

Yeosang fully lifted Wooyoung into his arms and he began to cradle him into his body. Wooyoung cursed.

"Why does the pretty boy end up saving me every time?" He mumbled.

Yeosang chuckled under his breath. "Why does my friend always need saving?"

Friend? He still calls me that?

Wooyoung closed his eyes and turned his head into Yeosang's chest as he began to hurredly carry him down the street. He smelled like cinnamon and oranges, the scent that somewhat comforted him. It smelled like the only person that had ever stayed in his life and never once betrayed him. Yeosang was the only person who stuck around even when Wooyoung tried many times to escape from his grasps. Wooyoung did everything to hurt Yeosang, but he never wavered and came to rescue him when it mattered. He was his friend after all, right? He wondered what the color of friendship was. He no longer remembered.