A Fractured Mind | 민윤기

Prologue

17 February 2009

It seemed time passed even slower when the math teacher entered the room. The drones surrounding him ate up every word with disgusting yearning. He was both revolted and painfully apathetic, stopping to wonder if it was possible to be both simultaneously. His bony elbow rested on the table top, propping his face in his hand.

It wasn't rare that he drifted off at the constant yapping of the incredibly boring man standing at the front of the room in khakis. He always hated math. School in general, actually. Music was much more interesting to him, though he was bullied for it. Other boys would call him a "fag" and beat him up for playing the piano and girls would giggle and talk shit. But one day, for reasons he couldn't conjure, they left him alone.

Now, the boys walked around him in the schoolyard. The girls averted their gazes and whispered amongst themselves in dark tones. When he asked his best friend Jimin, the boy would just look away and mutter a quick, "I don't know."

"Min Yoongi!"

The yelling of his name and a hand slamming down on his desk pulled him right out of his rest. His eyes flew open in alarm, landing on the angry man staring back at him.

He was seething, nostrils flared and steam seeming to fall from his ears. "Why is it that you always insist on sleeping in my class? Didn't anyone ever teach you any manners?"

Before Yoongi could react, the teacher raised his hand and gave him a stinging slap across the face.

He only blinked but was no longer in the room. He was sitting in a chair staring down at his lap. He was slouching, thumbs stopped mid-twiddle. As the familiar confusion set in, the dark green of the carpet was hauntingly familiar. He'd been there many times before.

"Is it fun to talk like a little boy?" a stern voice said from in front of him. "You think this is funny?"

Yoongi immediately sat up straight and looked the principal in the eye. "What?"

The man only narrowed his eyes. It was clear that he was weathered from fighting in the Korean War. His skin was wrinkled beyond belief. It was a wonder that the geezer was still able to move.

"I'm afraid that this has happened one time too many, Yoongi."

His eyes flickered to a woman sitting in a chair off to the side. She gazed upon the young boy with sympathy. He'd seen her before. Many times, actually.

The principal shifted in his seat. "I will have to contact your parents this time."

"No!" Yoongi shouted immediately, eyes widening in alarm as he leaned forward, nails digging into the wooden arms of the chair.

"There—"

"Please!" he begged, melting onto the floor to bow to the man. His forehead touched the floor as he squeezed his eyes shut. "I promise, sir—it'll never happen again! I'll do anything. Please, just don't call my parents!"

The oldtimer hesitated for a moment while watching the broken student before him. It wasn't often he witnessed high schoolers in such a fragile emotional state as Min Yoongi. He saw the way students looked at him. He knew why.

"Very well."

A long sigh of relief left the boy before he pressed himself up to his knees, head still hung. "Thank you, sir."

The woman in the corner of the room only shut her eyes. It wasn't the first time she'd heard him say those words but was hoping it'd be the last.

Yoongi waited for the old man to nod, signaling his release. Once it came, he scrambled to his feet and bowed before running out. He was so desperate to get as far from the office as possible that he almost rammed right into Jimin, who was waiting outside the door with a worried expression.

"What happened?" the shorter boy asked in a frenzy, unaware of the stares from other students passing by. "I heard you got sent to the principal's office!"

Yoongi checked the watch on his wrist before answering him. It was now two in the afternoon when math started at eleven. He sighed in relief. It had only been a few hours. Jimin pressed his lips together in retraction. He knew what that meant.

The younger leaned in closely. "Did you have another blackout?" he whispered. Yoongi only nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets. Jimin nodded and reached into the pocket to pull his hand out and take hold of it. "Don't worry, Yoonie. Nothing bad happened, right?"

"Yeah," he responded in a soft yet rushed manner, pulling his hand out of the younger's grip. "And don't call me 'Yoonie', Jimin. We're not five anymore."

As the older walked away, Jimin couldn't help but exhale sadly before running to catch up to him. He wondered if the hell would ever end.