Quiet cries, that sounds in the room, are muffled by the pillow to no avail. In the deaf silence every small sob is hundreds times louder than actually it is.
It isn't the first or the last evening when the slim boy is crying his heart out. It is his routine. Coming home, being insulted, crying by himself in the cold room. And almost every next day all over again.
If he is to tell someone about it, he would hear that he's overreacting, it couldn't be that bad. Someone could think that he's seeking for attention, talking over and over of the same things. That it's just him being a spoiled brat and things like this aren't happening in a prestigious family like the Kims. That's how it would probably be if SeokJin would start talking of it to somebody. Well, a keyword "if". If he has someone like this. But he hasn't. He has no one, who would listen to him, and the boy finally accepted it.
The only listeners and witnesses of his pain, of the coldness towards him and of everything that's happening in the mansion are silent, white walls. But they can't cheer him, they can't ensure hi that it'll be better or embrace him.
They are just walls. Nothing more. A dead object, a part of the big construction, that day by day the boy sees more as the symbol of his lonely suffering, than as the warm home which it should be.
He has no other choice than to live here for some more time. He awaits the day of his 18th birthday, the day when he'll leave this place, forever.
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Pʟᴀʏ ᴏғ Aɴᴛᴏɴʏᴍs || 2Sᴇᴏᴋ
Fanfiction{English isn't my first language. This is a translation of one of my works. Relationships between the characters are purely platonic.} Two boys on a stage of life have to, despite their differences, find common ground, not knowing the consequences o...
