Only women
It (does)n’t happen - intermediate -
Minho rolled and scuffled across on the slick floors, kicking and punching at a schoolmate he got into a fight with between classes. It wasn’t anyone from his own classroom, but he wouldn’t be surprised if it had been. He actually expected it to be someone from his classroom eventually with how the relationships there had been dwindling the past year, but that hadn’t happened yet.
Instead, it was another kid from a fight months ago. Why they were even fighting, Minho wouldn’t recall. Everyone would claim he started it and brought it on – throwing his uniform blazer off in the halls and sending the first swing at the arrogant kid from his same grade.
Minho hissed when his long hair was used to the other’s advantage, pulling and yanking his head back, trying to pull Minho off him. They only ended up rolling over the floor again in a tangled mess of skinny limbs and flailing fists, landing a punch here and there.
When it was said he er-punched the student out of nowhere, them claming it was an act of revenge, Minho didn’t want to believe it. It was fuzzy, the details of that morning and what had led up to the fight. Minho had been up twenty-four hours at least, trying to study on his own. Tests were coming up again. It seemed like all there were was tests these days in everything he did. Academics, as well as his pitiful life. Medication, Minho couldn’t recall the last time he took it. It had all began to blur together, leaving him not sure when he had it or not. When family began to let it slip, watching him take the medication with trust in him, it was hard to tell if he was on it or not.
Though outbursts like this seemed to be part of a big warning sign.
Soon Minho was sitting at an office desk while a female staff member sighed and spoke to him about the fight on school grounds – the first one Minho himself had been caught in. He kept his head down, bruising face hidden from her. As she spoke though, voice soft and Minho’s eyes glancing up to look at her thin, fragile frame, Minho scowled bitterly, mind wandering to a dark, exhausted place.
It should have happened to someone like her.
A woman.
She asked why again and Minho could only laugh inwardly, cold and angry. He shouldn’t be suffering this. She should. She’s the female.
Minho wasn’t a girl. In all the stories, it’s females hurt, disgraced, violated. The story ends and everyone moves on.
It should have been her.
Should have been anyone else.
This fight wouldn’t have happened then. Minho wouldn’t be angry and bitter at the world for what had happened to him. The confusing changes wouldn’t have started. He would be normal still.
It should have been a girl, and he wasn’t a girl.
He was a boy. He was tough and he showed it by fighting a fellow schoolmate just moments ago. He was tougher than some female problem.
The teacher switched her crossed legs with another sigh while explaining she would be informing his family as well as what the school would do to reprimand him. Minho’s eyes lowered again and he began tuning the rest out. His grades would be a problem again no doubt, record tarnished even. Minho’s fists clinched tightly over his knees.
Once home, Minho sat at his desk alone, clothes changed and icing a bruise on his face while listening to his father’s rising voice somewhere outside his quiet bedroom. His eyes slowly fell on his dirtied school uniform kicked away into a corner of his room beside the wardrobe. That female teacher ran through his mind again, leaving Minho confused by what his thoughts even were earlier.
It didn’t seem right now.
You don’t wish that sort of thing on anyone.
What had he been thinking?
Minho now stared blankly down at school papers scattered over the desk, hearing his parents argue about sending him to see a doctor again. Minseok was due home soon too. Minho pressed the bagged ice against himself harder, wincing a bit at the pain. He wasn’t looking forward to the rest of the night, or seeing the doctor again to let him know there really was no helping Minho, not really.
Not for someone who would have such ugly thoughts towards another human being.
This wasn’t even the first time those thoughts crept over him. It was only another reason to break is skin in hopes to bleed away his disgusting mind.
Don’t give into impulses, go meet girls, get out more often; the doctor would say, and Minho would nod his head like he honestly understood anything anymore.
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