Zelo opened his eyes to meet the harsh wind. He pushed his body up from his stance on the couch and stumbled over, wrinkled jeans and bare footed, to slam the window shut. He picked up the-already-half smoked cigarette and lit it with a match, rubbing his nose before he took his first smoke. 

   Dangling the deathly stick from his lips, he bent down to grab an as-equally-wrinkled t-shirt from the floor and slid it on. Zelo walked over the the couch and sat at the very end, almost as if he were squished. He even went to the extent of tucking his knees underneath his legs. 

   If you looked at him, you would never deem him to be a smoker. You would see him as a small, introverted, quiet. He never spoke, but was a very greatful person. He seemed so, at least. The shopkeepers, his neighbors, vendors- nobody suspected anything was wrong other than maybe just a bit of social awkwardness. He didn't suspect anything was wrong, either.

   Zelo looked down at his fingers. Despite his small and fragile frame, his fingers were long, skinny, but still sturdy. Almost creepy looking, but it worked for him. Other than the several round burns on his left hand, one could call the flawless. He chuckled a bit (for no reason that was apparent) and took his cigarrete to the opposite hand, making yet another mark and tossed the useless stick to the side. 

   His head perked up when he saw the bedroom door open. Zelo smiled and patted the seat next to him, as the small and slim man, almost monsterous sat still beside him. His eyes presented dark circles around them, almost seeming like a black eye. The man showed no emotion at this moment, except a small smile. Zelo held his hand, closed his eyes, and sank into the other's body. 

  The man ruffled the boy's blonde wavy hair and patted his head into his shoulder. 

  As he spoke, his voice had no emotion. It was soft, silent, and gentle. Not comforting gentle. Not like how your mother would comfort you after you scraped your knee, or after you lost the soccer game. It was gentle as in there wasn't much to it, it was a voice that could break easily or dissapear. He only said one word, but he said it with all the previous description. "Zelo."

  The younger boy's head looked up with innocent eyes. He didn't say anything. Like always. 

  "Zelo."

  The monster furrowed his eyebrows, his voice getting more frantic.

  "Zelo, Zelo." He kept calling his name, faster and faster and faster. Almost like a machine. 

  Zelo's eyes widened and he backed up, letting go of his hand. 

  "ZeloZeloZeloZeloZeloZeloZeloZeloZelo" Zelo let out a small shriek, not realizing that it wasn't small at all. He was screaming, calling for help, and he didn't notice it because he forgot how to do that. He thought he forgot how to say help, or how to cry, or how to do anything. 

  He didn't realize the door slung wide open, and his neighbor, Himchan, was eyes-wide in fear. From his view, all he saw was his polite and fragile neighbor, crumpled into the floor, shivering with fear. He didn't see what Zelo saw, and he didn't know what Zelo knew, but he knew he needed to help. 

  On the other hand, Zelo was watching the most horendous thing you could possibly see. 

  He was watching his only friend picking at his skin.

  He was watching his only friend hurting himself, still chanting Zelo.

  He was watching his only friend leave and he wasn't ready for this and he didn't want to see it. 

  He watched his only friend mutilate himself, cut off his leg, his head, his hand, his slim fingers. Scraping the dark skin from under his own eyes. He couldn't do anything to stop him. If he sounded like a machine before, then the metaphor that would be used now would be, "The machine is breaking down." 

  Himchan slowly backed away from the door, not knowing what to do and then stopped. He began to march forward, not knowing what to do. What if he tried to touch him? Would Zelo be even more scared? Would he get physical? He couldn't bring him to his room, he might think he was trapped.

   Instead, he took out his cellphone and stood directly in front of Zelo, trying to block whatever was happening, letting him know someone was there. He dialed 911 and spoke quickly before shutting the phone and standing there, tense.

  But for Zelo, all he saw was his friend going in and out, being replaced with a boy he thought looked familar. Was it a shop-owner? A vendor? His neighbor? The image flickered a few times. A mutantly tall, slim and pale man with dark accents, being replaced by a much shorter man, a much more average man.

  His friend never fully disappeared. It looked like a broken hologram, and he was able to see the other boy through his friend.

  Later that day, after help came, Himchan followed the nurse into the room in which Zelo rested in. And he stayed there. For as long as Zelo was in there for, so was Himchan. 

  Himchan studied the window, watching the rain splash against the parking lot of the hospital. He thought he'd always remember this moment, and the sounds accompanied with it. He was worried, but he was happy. Maybe happy isn't the right word. Maybe he was hopeful, or anxious. He didn't know. He looked over when he heard a small rustling.

  Zelo opened his eyes gently. He was shocked to see his neighbor, not his friend. He didn't say anything. Like always. 

  But instead he reached his hand out, and Himchan grabbed it.

  Zelo didn't know what he wanted to do. He didn't know what he wanted to be. He felt like he lost everything, but suddenly found something else, and he didn't know what to do with it. He felt like he was reborn, in maybe not such a great way, but also a very great way.

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Hey, sorry the ending is weak! I wasn't sure of how to end it off. Thanks for reading. Comments would be appreciated!