•F O U R•

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My mother and father argue a lot these days, more than usual, my mother would swipe her tears when I come home by midnight. My father would just laying on the ground with alcohol on his hand.

It's a daily panorama.

"Jungwoo, welcome home" mother stand up and walk towards me weakly, greeted me with a warm hug. "I've made you dinner, if your father didn't throw it away."

"Father should stop, let's move okay? I'll get you a flat somewhere near mine." I gently touch her bruises, it's everywhere.

"Don't you fucking dare you fag, your mother will stay with me," said my father, sounds very drunk while pointing his bottle to me. "the one who should move out is you, i never raise a fucking faggot."

No, I can't. I'm done.

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