Chappie 3

The world was spinning beneath his feet.

He never knew loitering in the forest at night would be that blood-curdling; but if he was given an option, he would choose to never know, let alone to have his first experience doing so just by himself.

In the broad daylight, the coconut trees used to be like gregarious people who keep waving and smiling amidst the billowy wind. Right now, everything in the dark was loomed with an eerie ambience, his heart skipped a few beats, perturbed by the sound produced by breaking twigs. Despite being fatigued, both mentally and physically, his logical mind and instinct were still debating on whether the so-called ‘Creatures of the Night’ existed or not.

Beads of sweat rolled down the poor boy’s alabaster face. His heart was hammering furiously on his chest and his trepidation heightened as time went by. Having both of his legs lacerated from the protruding roots and prickly shrubs, as though a marred machine, he rested his back on a nearby stone. Vicious scenes flashed across his confused brain and blurred his vision.

He had to get a grip of himself. After years of scrambling in circles, he was already fatigued and pertinacious to make a move, without contemplating of a win-win situation anymore. He gritted his teeth when his wounds started to hurt as he tried mustering his energy to get up. They felt hot, even knowing how ghastly they might be, he limped to the sea and showered it with the briny sea water.

A sharp pain jabbed him on his inside, penetrating his organs and he let out an agitated groan. Once again, tears brimmed his eyes and he regretted not leaving the wounds to just turn into horrendous scars. He never knew this would be so excruciating.

Suddenly, he heard an explosion. Cacophonous noises deafened him and for a brief moment, he could hear nothing but a tingling ‘beep’ sound. Oh God, he mumbled. He whipped his head towards the direction he came from alarmingly and his breath hitched. Clumps of black smoke billowed out from the windows and he could hear the sound produced by burning wood.

“No…” 

Everything crumbled….so did he.  

For once, he wished that there really was a time machine. If entering a portal could reverse everything, no matter what it might cost, it would certainly be better than pondering aimlessly here.

He used to think those who write about fairy tales were people going doolally and those who enjoy them were insane. If seeking refuge in fictitious euphoria was what it took to be happy, he would rather stay delirious and never woke up to this harsh reality.

That disastrous night was filled with palpitating heartbeats and muffled sobs and more importantly, a beaten soul.

Everything was too late, he thought, and never look back was what she said.

Mi-Young POV

After having all my lip balm and Vaseline paid through my nose, the magnanimous God of Water finally listened to my prayers. The hope of having drizzling bestowed upon the dormitories did not seem like pie in the sky anymore when I was welcomed by a thick mist after awakening from my slumber.

A vivacious giggle escapes me as I thought today would be a day without any bad cheese. My skin is radiant without any actual pockmark, my hair looks stylish and well-groomed and my uniform is oddly, making me look voluptuous.

Adults never really took responsibilities for their actions. They thought children are bound to obey the given orders without cogitating what is really propitious for children.

Some adults may enter your life with a special pass and construct a seemingly-amicable hallucination to convince themselves they have done their deeds. And when you have grown attached to that comfort zone, they exit your life while rampaging their way out, leaving everything in rubble.

Right now, an adult whose name I’m still not familiar of- Okay, let’s call her Jane, is about to force my first year of high school life into a calamitous state. I wonder if she’s even culpable, seeing me looking at her dewy-eyed the moment before she force everything down my throat. I can even envisage red alarms ringing and something is about to burst. For an instance, my mind goes blank.

“Class- the people standing in front would be your class representatives for this year. Feel free to enquire for any problems. Introduce yourselves.” Ms Jane’s shrill voice puts a full-stop to my endless stream of thoughts.

Looking at my classmates, some traipsing on the land of nowhere; some gazing at us with glinting eyes, my knees gradually grow weak and start fumbling. Thank God I decide to lean against the board. If things have gone in the correct order, I would have been one of them- judging whether my new class representatives would be a responsible or indolent one.

“Hey’ya! I’m Kim TaeHyung! My favourite food is pudding!” I cringe, astonished by his extraordinarily low voice. His jocular remark has the whole class in stitches, even my dear Ms Jane is trying to suppress her grin.

Kim TaeHyung is zany. He has a hairdo that’s similar to a mushroom’s and he seems to be very optimistic about holding this position. Well, I have no issues dealing with ebullient people but I hope his effervescence won’t cross paths with my way of working. His hair is a natural shade of hazel brown and his eyes radiate the same exultation he’s portraying now. Upon realising he is being scrutinized by a girl whose face is scrunched up, he flashes me a rectangular grin, taking the first step of being cordial.

I draw a deep breath and finally, “Hello, I’m Hwang Mi-Young.”

Silence.

And another minute of silence. For the first time in my life, I experience what they call a pin drop silence.

After taking the dimwits so long to discover I have no intention of adding on, I could hear high-pitch whistles from a bunch of chivalrous guys, each battling their eyelashes (enough to make me feel nauseous) while chanting terms like ‘ice cold’, ‘sassy’ and ‘snow queen’. I try to imitate those glamourous celebrities in hair shampoo advertisements and flip my hair, causing the class to be in a little pandemonium.

Being a class representative in this school does have its own banes; you get a tuition exemption for one term, an iTrain (a card that allows you to enjoy an 80 percent discount when commuting by trains as class representatives are most likely to stay back to handle the paperwork) and give people an impression that you’re the most accountable, someone who is willing to able to deliver stupendous results; the rose among the thorns.

But eventually, your high school life would be filled with exasperation. Teachers would ask you to do under-handed jobs, such as ratting your classmates out, claiming it’s your onus being a class representative. You also have to stay back later than others to handle the paperwork and pretend to be everyone’s hero. Well, there is no free meals in this Machiavellian world anyways.

“Hey, I think we will make a great pair together.” TaeHyung reaches out his hand for me to shake it. His hand is warm and comforting, my grandmother once told me owners of hands like these are usually presentable husband material.

“Hopefully.” I manage to squeeze a jovial smile and he nods his head.

“Okay, enough with the chitty-chatty- Class reps please go to the office to retrieve your red ties.”

Wow. Fancy.

*

I am starting to regret using peach-flavoured shampoo to wash my hair. Maybe the strong wind mistook its saccharine fragrance as candy sticks and keep shoving them into my mouth. The most galling is, I have both of my hands loaded with pesky documents and unable to take them out. In other words, I have to endure walking like a mania until I reach my class.

Speaking frankly, I agree with a common saying that is supposed to highlight the altruism of teachers, which is ‘Teachers are like artists, dirtying their clothes to bring colours to your life.’ Unfortunately, Ms Jane is a scatter-brained artist. She splashes a myriad of colours to my canvas of life with goodwill but alas, the colours end up being at a discord and the whole thing looks like a four-year-old painting.

From the bottom of my heart, I just want to be a simple high schooler. Certainly, I would like to acquire brief adulation and spend the upcoming three years as blithe teenagers. Feeling adrenaline gush across your bloodstreams before getting your results, going on a shopping spree with bosom buddies, adoring the school’s heartthrob, engaging in an affectionate relationship…. I want to at least get a bite of them.

Rather than living the way I used to be.

Faces of people with wily intentions dash across and before I know it, I trip over something and come in contact with the cold, hard floor. My arms are in place to support me to prevent me from stumbling furthermore. I start to imagine a brutal scene- my blood tissues, squashed due to the sudden abrasion and begins to bleed profusely. The blood then circulates my body, leaving a mess behind.

As I look up trying to confront the culprit, I’m welcomed by Jason’s roguish grin. I bet Albert Einstein can’t even elucidate the fact that I’m always tripping over- tripped by him. Infuriated by his jejune act, I bite my lip to suppress any vituperations to maintain a sophisticated impression.

“Oh wow. I never expect it to be leopard print.” He whistles and blinks in amusement.

I feel blood rushing to my cheeks and stand up without further ado. To shield my face, which must be as red as an apple right now, I make use of my hair to cover it up.

That thing is actually a birthday gift from my aunt. Well, I don’t think I need to describe how embarrassed and flabbergasted I was when I opened it in front of everyone unknowingly. I don’t mean to be conceited but she should have pasted a note telling to open it privately if she was planning to send something as startling as that.

I try to flee away from him after picking up my scattered documents but he catches my hand right away and I can’t even budge an inch. Ugh.

“What?” I ask in a reluctant way.

“Nothing in particular.” His gaze shifted to my necktie. “So you become the class representative, huh? Who is your partner?”

I eye this sturdy guy from head to toe. One day, I would just obtain a degree in the field of psychology and earn a fortune from him.

“I demand for an apology.” He stares at me blankly and lifts one of his eyebrows.

“What for? And you haven’t answered my question yet.”

Are you serious? I detest people who do not apologise for their wrong-doings and act as if they’re not even part of the blame. Even the Germans apologised whole-heartedly on behalf of their ancestors.

Hereby, I would like to thank my grandmother for her tutelage. If she hadn’t taken me under her wings when I was feeling hopeless, as though the world had turned its back on me, I wouldn’t nurture into such an erudite lady. It’s true that knowledge is power. But at certain times, instead of using grey matter to prove the right and wrong, the word ‘sorry’ is much more effective and soothing.

“Has anyone ever taught you basic etiquette? You trip someone intentionally so of course you have to apologise.”

“No one.”

That’s it. He’s obviously testing my boundaries.

“What do you mean by ‘no one’? Every mother would have repeated that countless of times.”

“I don’t have a mother.”

Awkward silence hangs over us and I just realise I have committed a serious sin, more unforgivable than tripping someone. A mixture of guilt and forlorn bottles inside me and the next thing I know, I’m gradually feeling remorse for not blithering my tongue.

“I’m sorry.” I hang my head low, my voice trembling after acting so dignified back then.

“What for?”

“For saying that without any idea that….” His eyebrows twitch a little and he begins nodding in an understanding way.

Third person POV

The girl suddenly reached out her hands and loosened his tie. If she were in his shoes, she would experience a slight heart attack, followed by a tinge of jubilation. Every simple step she made, including measuring the correct length and smoothening the tie, enchanted the boy and tinted his cheeks with a faint rose colour. Seeing her eyes flicker from one point to another was enough to make his day and her adorable reaction to his antics was really euphoric.

He liked being with her, the way her nose twitched in fury made him chuckle. Every time her hand came in contact with him, even for a short moment, the places she brushed felt hot. To him, she’s like a fairy, casting magic spells that made his heart thump even more; yet too good to be true. Her hair also gave off a strong fragrance and its dark colour made it look even more treacly. Without considering the consequences thoroughly, he s his arms around her waist tightly while she’s finished tying his tie, secretly vowing to never let go of this flitting butterfly. Unspoken words that remained hidden in the void of his heart resurfaced and the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to cage her in his world.

“I mean, it’s true that she’s really pretty but isn’t it unfair to catch everyone’s attention?” An unknown girl spoke, hinting subtle chagrin in her tone. “JaeHyun was also hitting on her the other day.”

“Nah, we just need to put up with her. I need her to buy EXO’s upcoming album. With her, I can even get a platinum one.” Another girl said while laughing softly.

They just didn’t know she’s actually using one of the cubicles. If she were to rush out and give them a good slap, she would lose her friends and end up being ostracised. She covered her ears, preventing the malicious reality from pouring in, her insides were stirred up and she just needed to forget about this and pretend as though nothing happened. Hot tears streamed down her pallor cheeks and she could not help but to lament about her poignant fate.

Many people fail the test of life because they copy others without knowing everyone is handed a different set. But what should she do if the questions were already printed out wrongly and none of them made sense?

“Oh well, it must be nice being rich.”

*

A/N: Hi, I’m back. Things have been really tough for me so I need to take a break rethink everything again. To be updated soon. :)