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"Books are uniquely portable magic." _______________
THE PAGES CRISPY TEXTURE FELT ROUGH ON JIMIN'S HANDS. Being on eight grade is tougher than it seems, school requirements and task already poking a hole in his tired soul; with a gun pointed at his forehead, ready to shoot when somethings goes wrong. And at this point, their maid, a lovely woman at her 40's, noticed how his eyes became exhausted and gloomy with his chubby cheeks turning flat.
With a worried heart, she placed the bottles of liquors littered on the floor inside the black, large plastic, her fast hands slowly fixing the mess. Crumpled papers with messy handwriting filling the whole space of the table with an open laptop on the middle, its screen showing a document with letters and pictures. Jimin could hear his father's heavy snores all the way from his bedroom. He clicked his tongue in rage from his jobless father.
"Aren't you tired, sweetheart? Its night already, take some rest." She said softly and sweetly, a tone that reminded him of his mother. Jimin's heart clenched at the thought.
"I can't." Jimin said, gaze placed steadily on the letters written in the book. His mind storing the information he knew he would never use in real life. "I failed the exam last time. I cannot let it happen again."
The woman gazed at the boy with sympathy in her eyes. Her lips forming into a frown as she eyed the bruises on his body, commonly hidden by a sweater and a long sleeved uniform. Messy hair sprinkling at his face, he struggled to not let his bruises touch any solid objects for they hurt too much, thick sticks and leather belts have caused a great amount of pain.
"Are you tired?" The woman asked. Jimin tried his best to smile at woman with sympathy bursting in her heart. Jimin slowly shook his head with an energetic smile.
At the same time his heart refused what his mouth have said. Knowing its an another lie once again.
