The Gospel (b1A4 Fanfiction)

It was about five o’clock when I woke up for the day or rather, I was dragged out of bed by my lovely mother. A loving mother who takes pleasure watching me suffer indirectly than enjoying to natural benefits of getting more than eight hours of sleep.

She took a small bit of pleasure from it.

“Mom, you know I can wake up perfectly on my own right?”

The curly haired, petite woman you that my mother stares at me, the corners of her lips cease into a disappointing frown.

“Okay, okay. I’ll get up, but the next time you decided to watch one of those sappy romance films, be prepared to have me input commentary of how bad it is throughout it. You have been warned.” I rise from my little cave of sorts and I shuffle to the bathroom.

My mom and I shared a two door apartment with a half bathroom. Our kitchen was pretty small; then again it was only us and few other tenants in the building.

For a thirty-two year-old woman, she was like an optimistic kid sometimes. We had spent a good part of the summer staying inside watching different movies and playing scrabble for hours straight most days.

She was a spirit and like a free spirit she goes where ever she pleases; that’s where the story of how we ended up here in Dongducheon.

She met a man after meeting him back in New York City after going to art show.

My mom gives up her saving to move there and we move out the house we’ve lived in since Dad walked out. She finds of he’s married and his wife is pregnant when we arrive in Seoul.

Who the hell cheats on his pregnant wife?

Anyways, he then leaves her for his wife (of course) having us two black women who still have no idea of how to speak Korean correctly, lost without

At one point, it ended; I had to return to the somber institution that was public school.

It was a place where teens spend about six hours or so hours in classrooms. Now, I know your thinking- don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate school.

If anything, I enjoyed learning; the atmosphere was something I couldn’t digest.

Even with all the cliques that you could name on the top of your head, strangely I don’t fit or wanted in any of them.

I was the ‘social outcast’ and I was happy with it.

I didn’t look or present myself like them; I would never be like them and that was it.

Times were hard for mom and me, but things always end of turning up okay in the end, right?

There will be things life doesn’t guarantee; maybe I won’t make friends, maybe I won’t get married, have kids and buy a house with a white picket fence.

I was fine with that.

I conclude this as I pulled on my sweatpants, my old sweatshirt and my white sneakers.

Brushing my curly afro, continues to I sling my messenger bag on my back securely. It had to be about six ten; the bus comes at six twenty, I had to hurry before I’m left.

“Yo Ma, I’m outta here, you see you later!” I raced to get the bus stop down the street from our apartment; I swear if you don’t race to reach the stop, the bus driver will leave without you.

I finally reach the stop, on time. I had to run about two blocks, but I was here. My feet hit something as I stop, though. I was stepping on a fucking guy.