Key’s POV

                The drive to our new town was a long one. I sat with my feet up on the seat, wrapping my arms around my legs and pressing my forehead against the cold glass of the window. My father’s reckless, drunken driving didn’t bother me as much as it used to, so I was able to focus on my thoughts.

                Will this new town make things better for me?

                Will my life go back to the way it was before?

                The way it was before…

                The sun is shining feebly from behind a dense layer of gray clouds. The brisk fall wind rustles the long grass of our front lawn. A large table covered with a hot pink tablecloth sits under the protective shade of our oak tree. The flames of twelve small candles flicker in the breeze as the singing surrounds me.

                “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you…”

                My mother places the large cake on the table with a triumphant smile. I know that she has been in the kitchen all day, working out every small detail of its construction. It has three tiers, each one laced with four pink candles. The sides of the cake have been coated with familiar Korean birthday sayings, each one wishing me some new form of happiness in the upcoming chapter of my life.

                “Go on, yeobo,” my mother urges, gesturing toward the candles that are about to give in to the fall breeze. “Make your wish and blow out the candles.”

                I wish that things will always be this way. My life is perfect. I have nothing more to wish for.

                As the candles are quickly extinguished, my friends and family cheer. They begin to crowd around me, shoving piles of presents at me and urging me to open certain ones first. I smile at their enthusiasm.

                “Pick one, Kibum!” My mother says with a laugh. She and my father are holding hands, gazing on the party with content expressions. My friends continue to bombard me until I grab a gift at random and set it on the table. They look on expectantly as I carefully unfold the brilliant purple paper…

                I woke up suddenly as my head smacked against the window. I felt a large hand wrapped around my forearm, squeezing until my fingers started to go numb. I gazed up blearily at my father. He was shaking me roughly, causing my head to crack against the window repeatedly. I gritted my teeth in pain.

                “Get up, boy. Now! If I have to tell you one more time, you’re going without food for a week. Do you hear me?!”

                “Don’t touch me,” I muttered, using my fingers to pry his hand off my arm. I rubbed my eyes wearily and instinctively reached up to fix my hair. I heard his breath rush past his teeth in a hiss of anger, but I opened the door and stepped out before he had a chance to strike me.

                I stretched and gazed around my new neighborhood. It seemed nice enough. The houses were smaller than the ones I was used to, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. The house we had parked in front of seemed to be the worst of the lot. The gray paint had begun to peel around the doors and windows, and the roof was in desperate need of repair. The lawn was a dreary brown, dotted with weeds and months of accumulated trash. I sighed. I had a lot of work to do.

                “Stop staring and move,” my mother hissed from behind me, shoving me roughly to the side. I toppled to the asphalt and flinched as small bits of gravel and broken glass sliced into my palms. I glanced around wildly, hoping that none of our new neighbors had witnessed the event. I sighed in relief when I realized that the street was completely empty.

                I climbed to my feet slowly and willed myself to ignore the crimson droplets that were appearing on my hands. I grabbed boxes and bags from the backseat and made my way resolutely toward the porch, determined to unpack all my things before dark. The steps creaked dangerously underneath my feet.

                The inside of the house was dark and smothered with dust. I coughed and squinted, trying to make sense of the interior. A small staircase on the other side of the living room caught my eye, and I hurried up it, searching for my room. The first door on the right opened onto a small bedroom with a quaint window and a vaulted ceiling. I immediately claimed it, visualizing all the creative things I could do with the space. The bright pink curtains from my old room would frame the window here perfectly. I smiled at the thought.

                After several hours of hauling, pushing, and shoving, all of our furniture was loaded into the new house. My parents immediately headed toward the kitchen, drowsily clutching bottles of alcohol. They sat right on the tile floor and proceeded to drink themselves into oblivion.

                I felt my heart contract as I looked at them. They had no idea what they were doing to themselves, and it pained me to think that one simple choice could save them. I took a deep breath and curled my fingers into a fist. No. I had to stop worrying about them and focus on myself. My future. My dreams. My goals. Not them. 

                I my heel and ascended the staircase, ready to organize my room. Placing objects in certain areas and determining proper color schemes always took my mind off things and helped me focus.

                The pink curtains were the finishing touch. I smiled happily as I pulled them over my window. I hadn’t expected my new room to be so perfect, but everything inside of it seemed to just…fit. I was beginning to feel more and more confident that this new town would change my life for the better.

                As I settled into bed, my mind whipped through dozens of different thoughts, blurring into an incoherent jumble like a movie on fast-forward. It finally settled on one topic, the one that seemed to be stressing me the most: school. Tomorrow was my first day. It would begin a dizzying chain of events that would continue throughout the day: “Hello. I see you’re new here. What’s your name? Where are you from? Do you want to sit with me at lunch today? What do you like to do? Why did you move here?” Each time I would answer the question with indifference, thinking only of the quickest possible escape route. If I talked too much, I would give something away. If I talked too much, the questions would begin to change.

                “Why don’t we ever see your parents?”

                “Why did you miss school yesterday?”

                “Where did those bruises come from, Key?”

                “Is everything all right?”

                “Is everything all right…?”

                I sighed and pulled the blanket over my head. All right. All right? I’m not sure what ‘right’ is anymore. “Is everything all wrong, Key?”

                That one I can answer.

                I shot up in bed as my alarm blared. The annoying noise reverberated inside my skull, making me more irritable. I flailed blindly until my hand hit the ‘off’ button.

                I crawled out of bed and immediately opened my closet. I pulled on my favorite pair of purple skinny jeans and topped them off with a metallic silver jacket. My silver boots reached just above my ankle and fit snugly over the purple denim. I laced them up loosely and glanced at myself in my full-length mirror. My dark hair was absolutely atrocious, and I willed it into submission with a comb and my innate ability to coax my hair into obedience. The multicolored highlights that spilled across my forehead were beginning to fade ever so slightly. I would need to touch them up soon.

                Satisfied with my appearance, I flew through my morning routine and snatched my hot pink schoolbag from the floor of my bedroom. The bus stop was nearly a mile away, and as I left the house I prayed that the walk wouldn’t ruin my carefully styled hair.

                The brakes squealed as the school bus pulled to a stop in front of the school. It was a massive affair, constructed of bricks and concrete blocks, dotted here and there with wide windows. Students milled about on the lawn, soaking up their fleeting moments of freedom before the bell rang.

                I descended the few steps from the bus to the sidewalk and glanced around warily. I could already see several students trying not to stare, and I lowered my eyes as I walked through the crowd. My fingers clutched the metal railing tightly as I climbed the stone steps to the entrance. I took a deep breath to calm myself.

                It’s just school. You’ve lived through so much worse.

                I nodded resolutely as I pressed my palm against the metal door. It yielded easily under my hand, and I stepped across the threshold to begin my new life.

     Here you go. ^;^ I'm exhausted and I honestly can't believe that I stayed up this late just to write this... It's only chapter 2 and this story is already taking over my life. Sigh. -_-  At least this chapter is a bit longer, ne~? I tried my best. ^;^  <3 Tell me what you think! <3