The Most Beautiful Moment In Life

video : my story

Hey. My name is Kim Seok Jin. I go by Jin. It's easier to remember anyway. If you're watching this, it's already too late. If you're scared, well don't be. If everything seems like a dream and you wished that whatever happened to me is a lie, I second that. I guess things are easier said than done. Before I turn this camera off for good, I want to tell you a little bit about my life and who stood where they did.

I was adopted by these two people who I called my parents for a while. No one knew what happened to my real parents. All my life, I was pushed around. I never got to go places where other kids went, nor did I get to be treated with love and care like everyone else. When I was ten, I remembered walking home from school and I saw my friend run into the arms of his dad. He was engulfed in his father's embrace. They smiled and laughed, and later that day he even took my friend out for some ice cream.

This... this broke my heart. That day, I walked home in tears.

Before I even stepped into the house, I had to make sure I didn't look like I was crying. I went in, and my dad was home early and intoxicated. Long story short, he beat me... almost to death. He fractured my collarbone, broke my rib cage from the back, and I was sent to the hospital. They asked what happened and I had to tell them someone threw a basketball at my chest. This was the reason why I would always have a hard time breathing.

"Seok Jin! Where the fuck have you been?" he said, keeping his eyes on the screen of the T.V. while holding yet another glass bottle.

"I-I was at school, Father," I stuttered.

He shot me a dead glare, "Do you think of me as stupid, Seok Jin? Do you think that I wasn't going to find out you were doing shit you weren't supposed to be doing behind my back?"

He got up so quickly, walking towards me. I stood at the entrance still being unable to move.

"Answer me, boy. Answer me, God damn it!" his breath reeked of alcohol.

He grabbed my right shoulder and swung me to the floor violently. He brought his left leg to my stomach, kicking me multiple times as I groaned in pain. He walked away to set down his bottle, and I decided to take advantage of this moment. I turned on my stomach to prevent anymore damage. I crawled towards the kitchen, until suddenly I felt sharp pain from my back as bones cracked. He stomped on my back. A knocking came to the door, as I began to lose consciousness.

"Open the... home and I have... bring inside!" the voice muffled. It was my mom.

My dad went to the door. As soon as I even realized it, a black blanket covered my eyes. The last thing I saw was her running towards me.

Anyway, my mom wasn't even home. She worked and worked until she grew fatigued, but it was never enough. My dad never got the courage to look for a new job after he was fired from being an accountant. My parents would always argue because they never had enough money for the bills. I really did feel bad, and since I was still young, I couldn't get a job to support them. Maybe if I was old enough to earn money to help them, I wouldn't have been treated like shit. They probably would've loved me more.

Since they argued about income a lot, they were always stressed out. I never saw them happy. That anger and stress they had was physical pain for me. They would beat me for anything I did. I was never the smarted student either, so when the report cards came in, they were never pleased with my grades.

I grew to hate myself for my parents' mistakes and their wrong doings. I started cutting myself when I was 13. It hurt at first, but it helped my cope with whatever went on inside my fucked up head. When my dad found out I was cutting when I turned 19, he was scared of me. He thought of me as a lunatic, and he even convinced my mom to have me sent to a mental facility. And so she did.

"He wouldn't do that! Don't accuse him of such things!"

"You're taking a lunatic's side on this? Check his arms, his legs, everywhere! If nothing is on him, then maybe I'm the lunatic here!"

The voices of my parents grew louder, and louder. I thought my bedroom door would've sheltered me away from this. I looked down at my arms, seeing nothing but scars upon scars. I haven't done anything recent, anyway. The door swung open.

"Seok Jin," my mother's sweet voice echoed throughout the emotionless room as she was quick to close the door, "we need to talk, okay?"

Out of everyone I've ever met, she was the only person who hadn't treat me in such a way a dog owner would ask their dog to perform a trick.

"What about?" I said quietly.

She ended up sitting at the edge of my bed, moving my laptop aside so there was room for her to sit. She deeply sighed and looked around my room, then to me.

"Have you been hurting yourself lately? Or at all?" she exhaled sharply.

"No," I responded without hesitation or emotion.

"Honey," she fiddled with her fingers, "It's okay to tell me about what's going on. You know I'm here for you, right Jin? I'm your mo-,"

I snapped at her, "No, you aren't. And it's okay. I'm fine, see? I'm living, I'm breathing. You don't need to keep worrying about me."

She furrowed her brows with a sorrow look on her face, "Jin, your father has been telling me that you're cutting. I just want to make sure that he isn't right."

"Really, I don't want him to be recognized as my 'dad'. He hasn't been a father figure to me and will never be a father to me!"

I got up and walked out the bedroom door as she followed me out, calling my name. Coincidentally, I bumped into my dad in the hallway.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" he yelled.

"It's none of you're business."

I kept walking until I passed him, but he had a grip on my arm and forcefully turned me around to face him. He studied my arm, then my other arm as I tried to force my away out of his grip until he let go.

The look on my mom's face was a look of disappointment. She looked at my arms, then back at me. She began to tear up.

"What did I fucking tell you? He's a damn lunatic! He's crazy!"

"Seok Jin, why would you do that to yourself?" her voice was shaky.

I looked at her, then rolled my eyes to floor. She came up to me and hugged me, tightly.

"How long, has this been going on?"

Cowardly, I was too embarrassed to respond to her. She let go of me, her face drenched in tears.

"Answer her," he said, but this time with more sympathy in his voice which I never thought he would have.

"Since... since I was thirteen," I quietly spoke, my eyes glued to my feet.