100 DAYS [SEONGJOONG]

[1] - BLACK

100 DAYS

Black.

If there was any color amongst all known to me that could accurately describe what I saw beneath my organs of vision, then it was black.

The waters seemed immobile, gently swaying within a fixed position under the influence of the sharp breezes. It was tranquil, the surface of the fluid, with no visible motion or any distinguishable sound. It could be nine by the antique watch. It could be ten. I didn't care.

Time, to me presently, was a perilous torture, a rack upon which my exhausted body lay, waiting to be ripped apart and immediately fall to the doors of my awaited demise. It mocked at each breath I inhaled, at every throb of my heart, and at every movement I put forth. I was a rib tickler substance to time, a puny joke to it's magnanimous value. Just another living being begging at its pedestal for its early arrival and to not prolong my inevitable pain.

The night was cold, the wind was rough and the rains were expected soon. My teeth chattered, yearning for some meek friction to create some plausible warmth, my hands clutching the railings harder. I looked at the water below, completely aware of its depth. The presence beneath seemed so welcoming, and the only step I had to venture was to cross the bridge to the other side and let go of my grip. In that way, I could be victorious against time and make my departure faster and easier.

"The weather forecasters are fucking pieces of shit," I suddenly heard a voice beside me, making me flinch momentarily, "The rains were to begin by ten. It's past eleven now and the clouds are absent. Tsk! What a crappy forcast."

I whipped my head to the right, squinting my eyes in the dark, only to understand the unexpected presence of a human beside me, presumably male. I ignored his presence and travelled my gaze back to the waters. Minutes later, I heard sight shuffling and once again peeked to my side out of pure curiousity. The stranger extracted a small packet from his jeans and pulled out a cigarette from within, putting it in between his lips. He flipped out a lighter and brought it to the free end of the cigarette, lighting it behind the cup of his hand and soon, there was an obvious smoky smell in the air as the lad took his first puff and blew the smoke out through his lips.

I turned away.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. I could feel his stare upon me and even though my features didn't face him, I chose to turn a little more towards the left.

"None of your business," my reply was soon and sharp, and definitely a little prickly.

"True though," I heard him say, with the burning cigarette between his lips, "None of my business yeah." He took another puff, blowing the smoke with a slight whistle, definitely intentional.

The wind whistled throw the nocturnal calm and it felt a little eerie. Distant honkings of vehicles and the low humdrum of the dazzling city was audible. The bridge wherein I stood was not a place for vehicles to rush by, rather, a solace for lonely souls and an escape for others, the waters to be specific. And I wasn't an exception to it.

"Tell me, anonymous guy," the boy beside me began, "You like the stars that much, hm?" His voice contained no amount of inquisitiveness or worry in it. Rather, all it had was nonchalance.

His question baffled me to a great extent. Stars? Was that what he saw me staring at all this time? I turned to him, knitting my eyebrows to exhibit my confusion and said, "You think I was staring at the stars all this time? What do you mean?"

The boy chuckled, taking another puff from his cigarette, tapping the edge right above the glowing end, tiny specks of bright amber floating down to the ground, immediately extinguishing. He then looked up at me, and in that midnight haze, my vision narrowed attentively, with a clear intention to take a mental note of what this intrusive stranger appeared like.

All I could comprehend in those hours of darkness was a presumable teenager in some jackets and jeans, a beanie on his head and a small backpack strapped around his shoulders. His face wasn't clear, but he somewhat appeared to be of a decent presence. My quiet investigation was rudely interrupted, as this lad opened his mouth to speak.

"Look up."

By this time, I was definitely annoyed. Yet I chose to travel my gaze upwards to the darkness above.

And for a moment, I went speechless.

The sky was strewn with a thousand specks of glowing illuminations, twinkling across the stretch of the infinity, in millions and billions. The stars seemed to shine brighter than diamonds, and there was no speck of the clouds the forecasters had earlier predicted. The moon looked distant, cresent and carved thin, yet none could beat the dazzle of the lamps of the night sky, the sweet candles of the galaxies and the burning promises of prolonged energy.

Now I realised what he meant by staring at the stars.

"I didn't come here for this," I replied in a low voice, lowering my gaze, "No one comes here for this."

"I do," the reply was immediate, "Considering the fact that this is the only region within the city to quietly gaze back into the past."

His words didn't make complete sense to me, and as I watched him discard the burnt out cigarette on the road and stomp upon it, I realised that this boy was perhaps not yet acknowledged with the sole purpose of this bridge.

"It was nice to meet you, 'boy by the bridge', he said, tagging me with an uncommon nickname, "Looks like it won't be raining tonight. You could enjoy a few more hours, you know. Would be seeing you tomorrow, I guess? Till then, goodnight."

And with that, he walked away.

I was shocked, completely to be honest. My life had currently become a place where 'tomorrow' seemed like a luxury I couldn't be able to afford any moment, and yet this lad of some eighteen or nineteen summers challenged me to meet the light of a new day.

I came down from the bridge, my eyes still stuck at the back of his disappearing figure, almost merging with the darkness. My fists clenched.

I'm taking this up.

Death be damned!

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Thoughts?