Chapter 4:

MAMA

Yixing P.O.V

I reached towards the pale, aluminous pair of arms taunting me as I tried to reach for them, only to have them pull away.

 I didn’t understand whether it was a dream or a nightmare. All I knew was those arms with no body nor face would bring me the salvation I so desperately craved.

 The white, bleak backdrop of my dreams, made my running towards the arms never ending, always so close, yet so far.

Without a warning the arms stopped moving giving out a white sheen a body began to fill, connecting the arms to a lithe milk colored body.

 I began to blink a dangerous amount, believing each blink would bring me to a sane conclusion of what was happening.

I looked up as the body began to contort a round, soft, white face, framed by dark- brown curls. A pert nose led up to a pair of shining almond shaped brown eyes, a contagious smile embedded within them.

Instantly I thought ‘an angel’, I had never seen such a beautiful creature on Earth. It gave out a simple laugh, while I just stood there in unmasked awe.

The feeling of recognition clouded my mind.

 Yet, I was taught angels were in the heavens the right hand men to God. He gave me a small awkward wave as if to say good-bye.

 I was confused.

Slowly the light from his skin began to dim a bit of him fading with each second. “Joonmyun, wait!!” I cried out as the last part of his body, his arms, the ones that had lured me here, vanished without a sound.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sehun P.O.V

            People have a common misconception about quite people.

We are either shy friendless lepers dying for some extrovert person to ‘bring us out of our shell’ or believe that we are too good for others to socialize.

 For some unknown reason I have been placed in the latter. Whether it maybe because of my cold glazed over eyes that tend to show no emotional changes no matter the situation, be it a happy one or a sad one, the cold spirit less eyes are not moved.

That fact alone allowed my father too take on another wife within a week of my mother’s burial, maybe it was the fact he is an insensitive bastard that had been with countless women before and after my mother’s death.

 Or maybe it was the fact the man never loved my mother to the point where he would have chosen on his own to marry her, not be pressured by family members to not have a child out of wedlock.

He even had the gall to have a smile on his face at her funeral, happy with the fact he wouldn’t have to create an ‘accident’ for her to be in, saving him an abundance of money.

Oh, yes those were huge contributors to why he had brought the to our home- Mother’s and mine- only to have her leer at me at any chance, to ‘accidently’ walk in on me while I am changing.

Even to give me blatant suggestive glances while the man was less than a few feet away.

In his mind his cold, unresponsive statue of a son could careless, and couldn’t harbor any actual human emotions to care whether his mother’s furniture and pictures were dumped on the side of the road for the homeless and thieves to pick at.

 It was a known fact- one that missed my father- that you can’t turn a hoe in to a housewife.

The useless acts of buying me toys and inanimate objects in his mind equals parenting, but even though I was not a huge fan of my mother- she was childish and self-centered at times.

But, she was my mother, my one and only, and no matter if she ignored me or used me as a trophy.

I had no doubt in my mind that she had loved me to the fullest a mother could to her child made evident by the fact she had not only gave me her family fortune but gave me her diary a week before her death, and by the fact she was known by all as the ‘ice-princess’ allowing someone to know her utmost thoughts was completely of the table.

It was the first time I had cried.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sehun P.O.V

 Baby Sehoon

“Sehoon, why don’t you go play with those other kids?” Umma questioned idly starring at the too bright too constructed child’s playground.

Various children of all shapes and sizes climbed and swinged on.

I looked up at her, the too large sunglasses on her face covering her eyes. I placed both my hands between my legs and slowly began to swing said parts.

 They hit the bench legs in a rhythmic motion. “But, umma, abeoji said not to play with the poor kids. I might get sick and die.” I explained, watching a small group of boys kicking around a small soccer ball, wide smiles and shortened breaths filled their faces.

 “Don’t call me ‘umma’, I’m too pretty to be a mom, I told you to call me Jessica. Don’t be a little bigot.” Jessica pushed her blonde bangs to the side and leaned more into the red bench.

“How am I a bigot, when what I say is true? Weren’t you the one who said not to hang around the maid anymore? Isn’t because she’s too poor to interact with people like me?” She scrunched her nose and crossed her legs.

“No, it’s because Yuri is a little who opens her legs for anyone, and I can smell the STDs all over her.” I gave and considerate nod, not completely understanding half of her sentence.

There was a sizeable silence between us, until she spoke up. “Stay here, I’m going to put on more moisturizer, this heat is making my face breakout.”

The bench bounced back up with the added weight gone.

I continued to watch the other children play a wave of boredom washing over me like a sickness.

I felt a hard object hit my feet; I peered down a black and white soccer ball stood still between my legs.

“Hey, can you throw that back!” A voice boomed, a small slightly tan boy called from across the playground.

I gave him  a once over, a basket full of dark curls were placed on his head, an unruly mess, fitting in nicely with his ruffed dirtied jeans and seen better days jeans. He wasn’t worth my time.

“Ehh~ can you hear me, throw the ball back.” He called once again. This time I didn’t bother looking up.

I could hear the crunch of shoes on bark chips as I played with my thumbs. Wondering what was taking Jessica so long.

“Pabo! Are you deaf give me my ball!" He screamed now less than a foot away from me.

Behind him were two boys, one tall frog-eyed kid.

While the other a shorter, younger(?) and dare I say cute boy with big eyes and a mop of straight black hair.

"I'm not deaf." I explained to the screaming idiot infront of me.

"Just give him the ball." The frog faced one said annoyance evident in his voice

I didn't understand why in the world this tan kid couldn't just shut up and take his dumb ball.

"It's your ball, you pick it up. You half-twit"

With a warning I felt a solid object hit my face, leaving a stinging feeling behind.

I could hear the mumuring around me. 

"Omo Jongin hit him!"

"Did you see that! It left a mark! Wow!"

The embarrassment filled my cheeks, we all knew I wouldn't fight back.

With the jeering of the crowd, this "Jongin" rounded for another hit.

It never came.

"Kid, get your hand of my son." I could hear Jessica's shrill voice command, the group of kids disbanding and running back to 

their games.

"Sehoon. Sehoon! Look at me." She pried my hand that was covering my face, allowing her to see the tears streaking my face.

"Don't you DARE let anybody do that to you ever again!"

I couldn't meet her eyes.

"You are my son, a Jung! Nobody hits a Jung!" She preached, earning her a few stares from the people walking about.

"B-but Appa's last name is Oh"  I corrected.

She gave a shake of her head.

"That is not the point!" Anger sticking to her words like honey.

"Don't you ever forget, what that little bastard did to you. Remeber this feeling and never let it happen again." She said 

 slowly making a point to emphasize each word.

I gave a slow nod to her words.

We stood in the postion of her squatting in front of my with both of my hands in hers, for a full ten minutes.

She gave out a soft sigh.

" I love you. I love you not because of who you are, but because of who I am when I am with you. Remeber those words 

Sehoon. No matter what happens, no matter what I do remember those words."

She commanded.

Back than I didn't understand why those words were so important, but to this day everytime I think of my mother I

remember that day and those words. The fact that in two weeks was the fifth anniversary of her death made the memories of her

even more vivid. Making me feel emotions I had never felt before, emotions that even Luhan- the boy who I plan to spend the

rest of my life with- could not revive. Maybe I wasn't as emotion void as everyone thought

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N 

I had this written in my note book for the past three days, and begged my friend to use her laptop to update.

I know it was random with the weird Sulay dream and the Sehoon/ Sehun past, but I felt I need so agnast to continue the story

along.

Now I shall leave you with this!

P.S can anyone guess my bias?

                                                       Chanyeol: Chanbaek! ( What Koreans call Baekyeol)

 Just 

Lol Grandpa Suho having a heart attack. Chen is so cute