saturday
1:07 am
i woke up from the loud pounding;
pounds coming from my window.
deciding to neglect it, i went back to sleep.
it went worse; pound and pound.
annoyed, i looked at the window,
where the noise was coming from.
i was startled;
it's you, kim taehyung.
you.
i opened the window pane and let you in.
this time, you were crying.
i pity you, i still do.
i pity you.
bloods streamed down,
all over your forehead,
all over your white shirt.
"taehyung, what just happened?"
i asked worriedly, letting him sit
on a clean chair.
you responded but i wasn't able to understand you since you kept crying.
the words were more like muffles.
i repeated my question,
i had to know what's happening to him.
"appa...
he's sending me a death treath,"
you stammered with your words.
i widened my eyes; what?
i cleaned the blood on your forehead,
with a clean towel, tapping it discreetly.
"why is he doing that?"
i sounded worried once again.
you didn't answer.
maybe next time you would answer
my questions.
i cleaned you up,
using my kleenex wipes, my first aid kit,
and gave you my oversized shirt,
which perfectly fits you.
"can i stay here for the night?"
you asked shyly. i nodded right away.
as i was about to exit my room,
you grabbed my wrist.
"where are you going?"
"i'm sleeping downstairs.
please make yourself comfortable,"
i smiled, soothing his arm.
"i insist. i think it's the other way around.
i should sleep in the sofa or something,"
you mumbled. i got a better idea.
besides, i don't intend any malice.
"why don't we just sleep in the same room?
but you'll be sleeping on the floor.
don't worry, i'll give you a sleeping bag,"
i beamed; you nodded in approval.
you slept in peace;
which made me feel relieved.
watching you sleep made me wonder;
why your dad gives you
an ugly treatment you don't deserve.
fathers should treat their children
equally and gently. fathers should
love their children.
