THOUGHTS | PARK JIMIN [ on hiatus ]

|| 2 ||

It was another day in hell. As I was walking to school, I looked up to see the dark sky filled with grey, almost black, clouds. It was like the sky was expressing me, how depressed I am. How worthless I am to everyone.

Then tears started rolling from my eyes while it was raining. I tasted the salty liquid, not knowing whether it was the rain or my tears.

I entered the school with red, puffy eyes and my uniform drenched in rain. Everyone gave me stares as usual but I couldn't care less. It was all gonna be over soon.
_________________________________________

It was now the end of music lesson, my favourite out of all the subjects. The one subject which I actually pay attention in. It's not just because I found it interesting. But because of the teacher. He was the most understanding teacher, person, I've met during my 17 years of living in this shitty world. His name was Mr Park. He was the only person who I fully trusted.

I often stay behind and talk to him since music was the last lesson of the day.

"Minseo, come have a seat." he sat down on the stool facing the piano, patting the space left for me to sit on.

"Thank you, Mr Park." I said as I sat down next to him.

He started playing the piano as I processed the familiar song. So I sang while he played.

mianhae mianhae hajima
naega chorahaeji janha
ppalgan yeppeun ipsullo
eoseo nareul jugigo ga
naneun gwaenchanha
majimageuro nareul barabwajwo
amureochi anheun deut useojwo
nega bogo sipeun ttae giokhal su itge
naui meorissoge ne eolgul geureol su itge

neol bonael su omneun naui yoksimi
jibchagi dweeo neol gadwotgo
hoksi ireon na ttaeme himdeureotni
amu daedap eomneun neo
babocheoreom wae neoreul jiuji mothae
neon tteonabeoryeotneunde

neoui nun, ko, ib
nal manjideon ne songil
jageun sontopkkaji da
yeojeonhi neol neukkil su itjiman
kkeojin bulkkotcheoreom
tadeureogabeorin uri sarang modu da
neomu apeujiman ijen neol
chueogira bureulge

I stopped singing and he filled in the lyrics.

saranghae saranhaetjiman
naega bujokhaesseotna bwa
hoksi uyeonirado
hansunganmanirado neol
bolsu isseulkka

haru haruga buranhaejyeo
ne modeulge galsurok huimihaejyeo
sajin soge neoneun wae haemalge unneunde
uriege dagaoneun ibyeoreul moreun chae

neol bonael su eomneun naui yoksimi
jibchagi dweeo neol gadwotgo
hoksi ireon na ttaeme himdeureotni
amu daedap eomneun neo
babocheoreom wae neoreul jiuji mothae
neon tteonabeoryeotneunde

neoui nun, ko, ib
nal manjideon ne songil
jageun sontopkkaji da
yeojeonhi neol neukkil su itjiman
kkeojin bulkkotcheoreom
tadeureogabeorin uri sarang modu da
neomu apeujiman ijen neol
chueogira bureulge

Then we harmonised for the last part of the song.

namaneul barabodeon neoui kkaman nun
hyanggiroun sumeul dameun neoui ko
saranghae saranghae
naege soksogideon geu ib sureul nan...

neoui nun, ko, ib
nal manjideon ne songil
jageun sontopkkaji da
yeojeonhi neol neukkil su itjiman
kkeojin bulkkotcheoreom
tadeureogabeorin uri sarang modu da
neomu apeujiman ijen neol
chueogira bureulge

These were always my favourite times of the week. Singing. Singing was a way I could expressing myself, not giving a damn about what others would have commented. It was a way I could be myself, I could be free. I would always pour out my heart while singing. Music was what kept me going.

We sat there for a few minutes until I broke the silence.

"Thank you Mr Park." I said to him.

"It's nothing really... Wait..." I tried to cover up the cuts and bruises on my arms. But it didn't work. He grabbed my arm gently, but firm. As if one wrong move, I would shatter into pieces. Examining my fragile arms carefully. I couldn't look at him in the eye.

"What have I said about cutting yourself?!" he non-intentionally yelled at me. Seeing me flinch and shut my eyes at his tone, tears threatening to fall.

He squeeze my arm lightly, indicating me to look at him. He looked into my eyes with a softer gaze.

"You know I hate it when you cut yourself right? I know you want to end it all because I know what it's like. I know what it's like to be treated like trash. To seem invisible. Because I was once like you when I was your age." he stopped for a second then continued again.

It was always me who did all the talking, it was nice to know a little more about Mr Park. I've always found him like an older brother to me, and he always treated me like a sister.

"I have two brothers, the youngest one being the favourite of my parents. Jiwon, his name is Jiwon. He had it all, the looks, the talents, the brains, love, everything. He always won a lot of competitions, being first to be exact. It was rare for him to get second or third. He was also the smartest one in his year. There were girls squealing whenever he walked pass them, flocking him wherever he goes. Guys glaring, wishing to be him. I would be lying if said that I never was once envied him. Actually, me and my other brother did. His name i--"

His phone rang.

"Wait here okay?" I nodded as he went outside to answer his call. Then he came back a few minutes later.

"I just realised how much I rambled that time seemed to fly so quickly. I think you should go home now, it's getting late. Do you need a ride home?" I shook my head.

"No Mr Park, it's okay. I can just walk home." I ensured him that I was fine.

"Okay. But promise me that you'll stop cutting yourself." he looked at me directly in the eye.

"I'm not sure I could keep that promise but I'll try my hardest." I told him truthfully, at least it was better than lying to him. I gave him a reassuring smile.

"Okay. See you during the coming lesson next week. Bye Minseo!" he sighed and gave me a comforting last look before I left.

"Bye Mr Park!" 'I'm not so sure about you seeing me next week.'