Oh Ha-Seon attends school everyday and never skips class, always taking notes and paying attention to the teacher's lecture. With the job of Class President and being in many different clubs, Oh Ha-Seon is labelled the model student of the school. M...
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Staying at the library and crying for days straight had captured the attention of the workers there. They would often come and ask if I was alright, or bring me water and pat my back.
It was comforting, but made me feel worse. I felt pitiful and useless. So weak and feeble minded.
The bruises on my arms stung everyday, and more and more appeared, fresh ones replacing the fading ones.
My father had somehow heard me being dropped off by Yoongi, and the bruises speak for themselves.
It was now Wednesday, and ever since I ran away from Yoongi crying, he hadn't shown up to class since. It was strange for me to wonder where he was when I was trying to avoid him.
Especially when my father told me to.
I went into the school library as usual, this time with my headphones in and blocking out everything else.
Soft jazz hummed in my ears as I began to go over my study guide. The saxophone's solo grew louder and louder and soon I forgot about my worries.
I continued my work for another two hours until the librarian found me and told me the school was closing.
Next stop, public library.
I would've thought myself to be happy Namjoon and his gang of rebel friends weren't around, but it was quiet the opposite. I was worried.
--
Why had I expected them to be at the public library? They never go there in the first place.
It was like they disappeared. Namjoon stopped coming afterschool ever since Monday, Jungkook didn't appear from nowhere anymore, Jin wasn't bothering me to eat more, Taehyung wasn't around to steal my snacks, Hoseok couldn't sing for me, Jimin had vanished like the he came, and Yoongi was erased like I was drawn to him.
I felt myself flush as I thought about that. Why had I grown so attached to them? It was the first time in years I've ever felt lonely like this.
I sighed deeply when I reached my house. Here we go. Another day of hell.
When I opened the door, I immediately snapped a hand to my nose. A strong booze scent had been the first thing to greet me.
It was every so often my father would come home drunk. He would drink bottle after bottle, drinking it like he was breathing air. He only stopped when he passed out.
I stepped around the empty bottles littering the floor, careful not to knock one over. If I did, it would mean trouble. Big trouble.
As if Satan himself heard me, my bag's strap loosened and came undone, sending my bag right into a clutter of bottles.
They all fell over each other. It was like watching a bowling game, but hell version.
I felt myself dissociate when my father stopped snoring. I could feel his gaze on me.
--
The bandage patch on my eyebrow didn't do much to subdue the pain. It stopped the bleeding, but of course soaked through.
Another scar to add to my face. At this point, nobody would even want to look like me without staring at my scars.
I stared at myself in the mirror, my nose nearly healed from Yoongi's accident, the bruise on my cheek slightly faded away, my cut lip, and the bandage over the gash on my eyebrow.
"It's none of your business."
"Yes it is," his eyes locked onto mine, "we're friends."
Where was he then?
--
a/n
sorry for the short chapter !!! next chapter is a c t i o n packed so be prepared!!!
