time step - A BTS AU (Random Updates)

Chapter 5

I just have to ask.... Why is it that life never throws one stone? You think that would be it; pick up the rock; throw the rock; walk away from the disaster.

But no. Life is a bully and after going through the effort of casting one misfortune, it always decides to send a torrent of them down upon its victims.

And its latest torrent just has to be rain. That wouldn't be so bad for me (the current victim), I usually love how the world changes under the tender touch of falling droplets, but I am currently locked out from my home and therefore have no access to dry clothes, and I have no good place to go and wollow.

So, doing as any sane person would, I don't run. Instead deciding that the best thing to do is to gaze up at the open sky, a wonky and strained smile on my face as I blink continuously. The smile stays plastered as my head moves down, and through obscured sight I see an opportunity.

Life hits me, I hit life.

Well, more realistically; Life hits me, I hit traffic pole. That could also be said; Life hits me, I hit me, or; Life hits me, I make it worse by slaming my weak hand into a ton of standing metal owned by the government, gaining myself not only a hefty bruse and splitting my skin open, but also a great embarrassment.

I really don't know why I did that. I mean, I didn't think I was angry, I just thought that the feeling building uncontrollably in my chest was confusion. At most slight frustration.

And I regret it fully as my hand flings back to me in a stinging agony.

"Ow oww ow ow ow ow owwwwww," I cry as I spin in circles and the water in my eyes is now diluted by a salty substance.

A car passes me, slowing on its approach, cautious. But I pay it no mind. And the lights soon change colour.

It doesn't take me long to locate a bathroom, drying myself as much as possible under a hand dryer.

I endure the heavy and unpleasant sound of the machine, empressing myself with how long I last before finally deciding to draw away.

I don't even glance at the mirror, already knowing the reflections state and not willing to confirm. I won't look, I won't let this misery be real, not today.

Tomorrow is a better day to be miserable.

So I saunter down the halls. The white walls lead to large wooden doors, merely steps away, before I am interupted by a uncertain, hopeful, and somewhat sad voice.

It calls my name, "Roh Eunha?"

And I turn.

Before me, standing with curved sholders, an angled head, and wide eyes is a boy. His light brown fringe and gentle features are something that I easily remember, finding them familiar and weirdly reasuring.

It is the boy from history, the one who took my test and looked at me as if I had the head of a frog.

He is still kind of looking at me as if that were the case.

I mean, now I have the excuse of looking like a drowned rat. People may look at drowned rats like how he is currently observing me.

"Yes?" I ask, curious.

Normally I would feel a fear, or at least weary anticipation, from the people here. But he, he seems alright.

"Um, could you come with me? The tutor is looking for you?"

"Me? Why?" I ask, not alowing for an answer as my mind roles with questions, "he is still here? Has he been waiting for me? All this time?"

My head jolts to the side to look out the windows at the darkness kept there.