What Can I Do

Chapter 3 ~Maybe saying nothing is better than saying anything at all

Every day after school, Wonpil and Sungjin would walk home together, Sungjin leaving first towards his own home. 

It had started raining the minute Wonpil had stepped out of the school and he waited for Sungjin to finish his test and meet him at the front doors. However after he had been waiting for almost half an hour, he was one of the last students there. He was frustrated and annoyed at Sungjin, knowing there was no way he had been writing his test for that long. 

Wonpil pulled out his phone and decided to call him, to see where he was.

"Hello?" A female voice said on the other end.

Wonpil's heart dropped, wondering why someone else, a girl too, was answering his phone.

"Hi, where's Sungjin?"

"OH, Sungjin-sshi is helping me find some books in the library, but he will be back soon. It's Haru, by the way." The sweet voice said.

Wonpil's mood sunk even further when he heard that Sungjin had ditched him again to go study with Haru. He did not even inform him, and he had stood there for 25 minutes, waiting for him.

"Would you like me to tell him something from you? Hello, Wonpil?" The little voice on the other end of the line said.

"No, thanks Haru." He said quickly before hanging up.

Upset and frustrated, Wonpil left the school, zipping up his windbreaker all the way, since Sungjin was the one who always packed the umbrella. The walk home was filled with loneliness, sadness, water seeping through his clothes, and the weather perfectly reflecting his mood.

~~

Across the street from where Wonpil was walking dejectedly slow to get home, another boy was doing the same thing. Dowoon always tried to stall long enough at school before he went home, because although disliked school and the people in it, he hated being at his house more.

He dragged his feet across the pavement, taking extra care to stop at every stop sign and red light, even if they were for the cars and not him. He played a game to entertain himself, and to make the short journey to his house longer. He counted the amount of red cars he saw and every time he saw one, he would turn back around and walk back to the end of the street before continuing on his way. Unfortunately for him, he only saw about two red cars a day, which barely lengthened his walk.

As he got to the front door of his house, he shook off his wet hair and took time to clean his shoes on the doormat. He quickly slipped inside the house and put his shoes on the rack, before attempting to run up the stairs as quietly as he could. Usually his father was already passed out on the couch, dozens of beer bottles scattered around him, by the time he got home. He was hardly ever awake because he passed out after drinking too much. When he was awake, he would spend all his time yelling at his son, spewing evil things from his mouth and abusing him endlessly.

He must have been handsome, once (for Dowoon was a handsome guy) but after his mother had died, he went crazy. He couldn't focus at work, constantly yelled and eventually got fired. He couldn't stop seeing her everywhere and every time he looked at Dowoon, he would see her again and take out all his anger on his son. They were now living on unemployment insurance that would not last for very much longer. 

Dowoon took every opportunity to get away from his father, never interacting with him for more than five minutes a day, in fear of angering him.

Today, luck was decidedly not on his side. His father jolted awake, spilling beer all over the carpet and his shirt. Dowoon tried to climb up the stairs extra slow and soundlessly. Unfortunately the house was an old one that was barely cared for after his mother had died, and the squeak on the third step gave away his position.