[Mellisond] Short Stories

Spring Day

{Song -  봄날 (Spring Day) by BTS}

     Bomin never sleeps. Not really. He sleeps the way a fearful heart breathes. Existing. Surviving. But never living. It's not that he's incapable of slumber. He simply hides from the things that can be seen when his eyes are closed. It's a practice that he did not learn, but took to nonetheless.

     He's developed the habit of staying up late and the instinct to wake himself up when the need arises. Bomin's dreams haunt him more than any nightmare could. So he runs from them. Ghouls hold less weight than those that they rob from, so he'd rather dream of the world's terrors than be reminded of what's gone.

     On mornings like this one, he stares up at the blades turning over his head letting the oceanic whoosh clear his mind. The rushed air pushing down on his bare chest chills his skin turning it to ice and numbs his muscles.

     A creaking squeal sounds as his door hinges wide open and invades his ears, but his eyes maintain their position.

     "Wake up." Bomin's eyes drop from the ceiling lazily falling onto his father standing in his doorway securing a green tie tightly around his neck.

     His father hadn't seen Bomin's room long enough to have forgotten how it's arranged. He partly expected it to be in some type of disarray. Clothes on the floor. Stray trash scattered throughout or pushed to a corner. But everything's tucked away and in its place, except for the bed positioned in the middle of the room directly under the fan.

     "You can't keep missing school," he says as a command. Bomin takes a deep breath before slowly sliding out of bed apathetic to go against his father.

     Bomin steps out of his room in a white button-up and black trousers dragging his feet into the living room, while the TV quietly plays in the background. It doesn't manage to catch his attention till an image of the city bridge fills the screen.

     His eyes snap to the picture letting it take ownership of his mind, and the emptiness in his head quickly fills with memories. Memories that he desperately wishes to forget.

     A woman's voice accompanies the image with forced inflections saying, "Another life lost at the-"

     With heavy steps, his father quickly comes up behind Bomin clutching the remote off of the couch, and the color of the screen slips away.

     A strained silence takes over the room letting every uneasy breath and heartbeat noticeable before the father breaks it by saying, "You'll be late." It doesn't sound so much like a command but more like an apology.

     Absent from the scenery, buildings pass his eye without any recognition. He avoids placing his gaze on the people that surround him on the train, even though they don't care to do the same.

     Bomin has taken this train to school for years, so when he sees the bridge, he's not shocked or stunned. A part of him wanted to see it, as if to check if it really still existed.

     No memories cross his mind just a somber wave of numbness, as he stares at the long structure stretching up into the sky like a monster trying to rip up the clouds. Once the bridge exits his field of view, he notices the breath caught in his ribcage.

     The winter chill wraps around Bomin like a blanket, but it doesn't cover him enough to hide him from the stares and whispers of the uniformed crowd in front of the school.

     He keeps to himself trying to move without consciousness in order to stay in his own world. But an arm reaches out towards him ripping his world to shreds.