smoke and sins | park jimin /hiatus/

chapter 5 | abandoned

The clock was broken.

That was the only explanation for why the minute hand was still proclaiming obnoxiously that it was seventeen to. Okay Lee Jae-Eun, seventeen minutes left until end of French class.

Lunch! The holy time of freedom in school.

Unless that babo was going to stalk me at lunch too. I scowled to myself, flicking my pen across my knuckles. No, he was probably too busy with his shrieking fans hounding him like... like... hounds. That thought brightened my day until I glanced around the classroom and realised that I was the only student in this room.

Lonely, you are so lonely...

I'm not.

Then why is there only a french teacher and you in this room?

Shut. Up.

I gazed sullenly at my completed work (I had finished ten minutes ago and simply did not have the energy to ask for more).  I checked it for the 16656th time, looking for nonexistent mistakes. Spotting an ink-blot, I frowned. Carefully, I tippexed it out, until there was nothing but the white paper.  Seemed excessive, but I took the same care in all aspects of my school life. It was the part of my life that I could excel in, the life that was perfectly controlled. No heartsick, dying mothers. No cold, absentee fathers.

After all, when you had no friends or parents, you realised you have a lot of free time on your hands. I used my freedom for academics, art, sports and performance arts. I excelled. At the least when I applied for university I would be seen as an 'all-rounder'. One last glance at the sheet, I got up and handed it in, startling the sleepy teacher.

"Désolé Mr Jung, j'ai fini le travail de classe. Puis-je partir plus tôt?" Sorry Mr Jung, I finished the classwork. Please, may I leave early?

"Uh? Yeah, well done on your hard work. Homework is page 56."

Finished.

"Je vous remercie." Thank you.

"One question."

It better not be about my eyes.

"Are you wearing contacts Lee Jae-Eun? You know those are not allowed those."

"Non monsieur, je suis né avec des yeux naturellement bleus. La grand-maman de ma maman avait les yeux bleus." No sir, I was born with naturally blue eyes. My mum's grandma had blue eyes.

"Uh, wow." He rubbed his face, yawning wide. The remnants of a chewed cracker winked at me. "Well, your eyes are very beautiful."

Creepy.

"Thank you sir."

I exited the room swiftly, leaving the creep behind. Ugh, who says that to a student? With my bag and hidden cigarettes, I headed first to the toilet. It was a long day after all and well, I didn't have an elephant's bladder.

Finishing my business and washing my hands, I headed towards the 3rd floor, the art department. The school mainly focused on the newer fine arts, like photography and modern art so some rooms were open to students to do anything really. Everyone else chose the cleanest rooms, leaving the dirtiest and oldest rooms abandoned. Taking advantage of this, I mainly use this room and nobody entered it because I owned the key. (Wide, guileless eyes and my voice small and timid, it had taken all of five minutes before the Arts Department had passed the key over.)

Opening the room, the familiar scent of paint, mould and smoke enveloped me. I cherished it. It was my safe haven where nobody could- or would- disturb me. Even my sworn enemies, smoke detectors, couldn't disturb me here. No-one used the room so the school had never bothered to replace the batteries in the detectors. A goddamned safety hazard, but perfect for me.