Drabbles and Containment by A Forum User

Drabble Fifty-Seven - This Is Why It Was My SECRET Language

#57

~Sang~

Angry tears flooded into my eyes and dripped down my cheeks. It was horrible. When I cried I felt weak and vulnerable, the slight relief I had nothing compared to the immense amount of fragility I gained during it.

Night had cast its spell already, filling the air with its blanket of dark, making the lights shimmer and glitter brightly against the inky blackness of the sky. Usually I found it comforting, something utterly reliable; it would always eventually get dark, and always eventually get light.

Apparently one of the only things I could rely on, and be sure of. Not now. Now, all the magnificence and grandeur of the night felt like a suffocating shield.

I clutched my diary in my shaking hands and grabbed my pen. This wasn't the way to deal with it- I should speak to one of the boys, get it sorted, but I couldn't. I couldn't. They would take it the wrong way.

Faster and more feverishly than I had ever written in my journal, I started scrawling it out in the Korean alphabet.

I hate him. I hate him more than anything. Just because he's my teacher he believes he's my master. It's horrific. I despise him. I want him gone. I NEED him gone. But I can't go to the boys, they wouldn't see it right. Especially North, he gets so protective of me, but the other guys views would differ and I can't break them apart. I'll just have to bear it.

The page was littered with specks of water, the tears that had escaped me and made their way onto the page. I stared at my writing. Part of the ache and rage that had filled me subsided.

Through my calm, I realized I needed to get it all out. So I picked up the diary and slammed it against the wall, screaming my silent scream. The only thing my vocal cords would allow.

It was frustrating, like watching someone speak without hearing; wrong.

My arms wrapped their way around my knees and I sobbed into them, curling up. I fell asleep that way, in the glowing light of the lamp casting distorted shadows on the walls, twilight stars glittering beyond my curtains and my shield of utter sorrow guarding me against all the beauty that it held.

Slowly, with irritating lethargy, my eyelids opened. I became very quickly away of very many things.

Firstly, my back was stiff and sore from the way I had slept. Secondly, the puffiness from the crying had faded.

Third and foremost; there was someone in my room.

I was close to certain it was one of the boys. Just in case, I lifted my head and like a bloodhound, sniffed the air.

Sure enough, the light scent of spring soap drifted through the air soothingly, wrapping me in comforting thoughts. This was what I needed; one of the guys here to keep my mind off of things.

I arched my back like a cat, working out the creaks before letting my eyes locate Mr. Blackbourne. A Mr. Blackbourne holding my diary.

At first, my mind couldn't quite comprehend it; he couldn't read the Korean alphabet. Then I remembered that he'd asked me to write down that sentence 'the three boxing wizards jump quickly', with all the letters in the alphabet in it.

He'd probably been decoding it before I awoke.

"Mr. Blackbourne?" I asked.

He stiffened and turned to me, his face still in that perfectly calm state of serenity, but I could tell. There was a light crease between his eyebrows, and his eyes had lost their firepower, their drive. Instead, there was only defeat.

"Sang, when were you going to tell me you hated me?" He seemed so sad.

My eyes widened. Hated him? What did he mean?

And then it hit me.

'Just because he's my teacher he believes he's my master. It's horrific. I despise him.' Oh god. It looked like I hated him.

"Mr. Bla-"

He cut me off. "Don't lie, Sang," his voice was cold and harsh, "I'm very sorry you feel this way."

With that, he turned on his heel and stalked from the room.

I stared at the door in shock.

What had I done?