The Dreamer

TWO - Memories

I woke up in the middle of the night looking at old pictures hanging on my wall. They were so numerous and most of them were really memorable.

"What's your trip this time hanging numerous pictures on your wall?" my Mother asked when she saw me doing the labor.

"I don't want to forget someone so that, if I ever suffer from amnesia, I will still remember these moments easily," I answered.

She smiled. "That's weird, but I love the idea."

How I miss Mom's smile...

I pulled my blanket up to cover myself and closed my eyes. I would like to have a good mornight sleep.

How I miss everything.

The next day, I tried my very best to fix myself and go to school. I was on my way to my PE class when someone shouted, "SHIN!" I turned my head and that was when a ball hit my face.

Damn this gym. Damn these basketball players. I could hear all around me laughing and there he is, Yoongi, who has the darkest reaction among them.

He walked towards me and picked up the ball behind me. "Help yourself," he whispered. "Don't wait for me to help you stand up because that won't happen."

And there, he left me and called her playmates to take a break.

This... is not the Min Yoongi I was with five years ago...

"Ouch!" The hell? Who the fuck he is to throw me the ball that hard?!

"Ya, if you want to learn this sport, you must atleast do your best!" he shouted.

What does he expect from a girl like me? I don't even like sports, but here I am now playing basketball with him just because I told him his favorite character in Slam Dunk, Miyagi, is short like him. He got angry that he dared me to play with it.

"You like Mitsui but you can't even shoot three points. Your tall height is useless," he said. "Unlike me, who likes Miyagi, I am fast to be a point/shooting guard."

I don't want to cry just because he insulted me but I stood up and raised him my middle finger. "Don't be too arrogant. This is the only game you're good at anyway!" I yelled. Looking at his ugly face, I could say he got annoyed.

He started to walk towards me but I didn't care. He couldn't bear to stand near me anyway. I'm taller than him, and he's afraid that the other kids will tease him.

"What now?" I dared him.

He looked at me carefully and gets the ball behind me.

"Let's go home now," he said.

I wanted to ask him why but then he held my hand and we started to walk.

"You got wound. Let's not play basketball again."

Well, he's right. That won't happen again.

I bowed my head as I hugged my toes in the middle of this gymnasium. My heart ache everytime I see him, everytime I hear his voice, everytime I am trying to reach him. I started sobbing. I let out of everything: the tears, the pain, the anger, anxieties, depression, resentment and memories, and those killed the silence of the place.

I know it's kinda OA for a 13 years old like me to act this way but really, I'm fed up. I've done enough. It's funny how years gone so fast, same with those moments I really treasure in my heart.