So much laughter. Why did I hear so much laughter? This was twisted. I had no idea why everyone was laughing. Not just the boys, but even some of the girls? This didn’t make sense. I had no where to turn. Everyone was watching me to see if I would die. I mean that: everyone watched me come closer to my death.

"Come on! Are you too afraid? Just jump already!" I heard such calls behind me.

The edge of this cliff was even crumpling little by little before my eyes. I backed up from the edge continually, earning more mocks from the morbid group behind me. I almost did want to jump, but I was afraid of death. If I was going to die today, I wanted to take care of it in a calm, quiet manner. This was no arena. It was not private entertainment for these people. This was part of the real world. Were they really asking me to die?

What’s that? I wondered.

I shoved a hand in my pocket and found a knife. That made my final decision for me. I turned away from the cliff and ran.

"Come back here!" shouted some of the boys. 

They began to run, but they tried their best to stay in a group. I ran much faster out of determination. When I finally took the right turn into a forest, they ran past me. Just like the movies. Thank goodness at least one thing went my way. There was no longer enough time.

"Where is it? Where is it?" I shuffled around to get off my coat and look for the knife. 

I pulled it out of my pocket victoriously, and yet sadly. It was still dirty. I had stolen this knife from one of the girls after she gave me a few scars. As I stared at it, I touched my right cheek, my abdomen, and my left leg in particular. Then I began to touch the rest of my body. Aches, bruises, scars as far as I could see. My chest was hurting in every possible way. I looked at that scar closer to the left side, where my heart still beat. Why did I only hurt nowadays? I was going to give it up.

This will be the day I die. Finally. I’ve been waiting for so long. I know better not to dream of a better life, not to look for better friends, and not to change who I am. It’s not possible, and I never should have believed it. Goodbye, I will never make that mistake ever again. 

I drew the knife closer to my chest, as if to drive it into my heart slowly. Then again, did I want to die quickly or slowly? Or did I really want to die? Maybe I just wanted to float away in the river, but it was too far away. I had this awful feeling that I was committing a crime, and out of fear, I dropped the knife and sobbed. I hid nothing and dimly sobbed out loud.

"Is there something wrong?" I heard a voice. 

I shut myself up in fear of being noticed by anyone. I looked toward the entrance and saw no one.

"What are you doing? Why are you crying?" 

I observed everywhere around me once more. It was almost as if this voice came from above me. I couldn’t see anything besides the trees. I only waited for a while, gripping my chest. Then suddenly, there he was. 

Standing nearby the trees, right before a new pathway into the woods, stood a tall, handsome man—I’m pretty sure he was human—simply watching me. He peered with his shapely, brown eyes at the scars on my body. Likewise, I observed him: dark hair, skin a bit darker than my own, pretty full lips for a man, a whole foot taller than me, muscle-bound (but not too much that it distracted from his face), and currently dressed in white. He must have been on a walk, because he wore his tennis shoes.

Well, I suppose he was human, but where I watched, he looked almost angelic. I wanted to run into his arms and cry. He was the first person there for me, patient with me and not watching me die.

"Please give it to me," he held out his hand, "you don’t need it."

"Need what?" I finally murmured after a long stare.

"Please give me the knife."

I might have been more reluctant and said I was going to kill myself, but I gave him the knife. Maybe drowning and floating away in the river was the more peaceful option.

"Why did you want this?" he almost chuckled at the knife. 

Was this some kind of joke. I held myself together by a hair, refusing to tell him my true feelings.

"It’s not what you think," I explained, "the only reason I stole that knife was because someone was using it to hurt someone else."

"Oh, so you stole it? I wonder who it was."

Why was he smirking? Was it funny? Was he honestly amused holding this dirty knife in his hands? Why would I even complain? His amused smirk was more precious and more bearable than the broad, twisted grins I saw before. 

"How many people got hurt from this knife?"

"Well," my voice became lower and quieter each time, "no one else…besides me."

After a little while, he dropped the knife and placed his hands on my shoulders.

Oh my gosh. He’s so warm. He can’t honestly be only human.

"I want to ask you again: what is wrong? I’m not like any other person you just met on the streets. Think of me as the friend you want to tell everything to. Think of me as the person with all answers ready," and his voice became a little more firm, "what happened, and what’s wrong now?"

My eyes immediately melted into tears again.

"I used to have someone like that, but she tried to use that knife on me," I touched my chest scar again, "it has been two years of solid torture, and everyone was watching me die today."

"…two years?"

"Yes, the summer is almost over, and I have nothing else to do but kill myself. Everyone wanted me to jump off the cliff, but they were all watching, waiting as if it were some TV show. I couldn’t kill myself while they were watching, so I ran away and tried to stab myself."

"But you didn’t. Why is that?"

"I’M AFRAID OF DEATH!!"

I told the truth to a complete stranger. I told him I was afraid of death even though I was ready to die today.

"I mean it," I reaffirmed, unable to breathe almost as I sobbed, "I want to die today, but I am so afraid of death. I just can’t do it!"

In my weakness, I collapsed to the ground. I was sad and embarrassed all at once. How could I just dump my problems on someone I didn’t know? He said I could and all, but it doesn’t necessarily mean it was the right thing to do…but maybe it was. I wondered as he actually picked me up from the ground, cradling my weary head.

"I don’t like this part," he whispered, "it’s too dark. Please, let me take you somewhere where there’s a little more sun."

He carried me down the new pathway, and there was, in fact, a spot where the sun peaked through the trees, right through the center. We found it, but he didn’t set me down for an instant. He sat in the center of the grass and just held me there.

Wow, a loving touch. I was going to die today, and instead…here I am. How am I so lucky?

Placing a hand on the center of my back and another around my waist, I was almost cradled in his arms. I nuzzled my cheek into his warm chest, a few tears beginning to stream down my face. I tightened myself around him, tying my hands around his waist. It was as though his presence towered over me, only in the best way possible. I guess he meant it: he was human, but not normal. He was special. He acted as though he thought the same about me. 

I didn’t say anything for the longest time. This was too blessed a moment to spoil with talking. After a while longer, he touched the scar on my chest. A long finger brushed over it back and forth. In an odd way, his touch actually eased the pain. He did the same with my abdomen, my leg, and all bruises, small or large. 

"It will take these a little while to heal completely, but I’m sure that helped," he winked.

I was still in such a good mood, I refused to talk away this moment unless he asked me something. He used his thumb to brush some of my tears off my face. 

"You know," he said, not like a true whisper, but still softly, "I know for sure that we’ll meet again. Just imagine, though: all these scars and bruises healed by the time we meet again. You’re the kind of girl who can make it out of the fray stronger and cleaner than everyone else now. I believe it’s true."

"You…have faith in me?"

"The point is not as much if I believe in you, but if you believe in me. I’m going to save you."

"You’ve done more than I could ask. You stopped me from dying. Why did you do it?"

Why me? It was my time, I have no doubt. He picked me, unpopular, unloved me, to be saved today. Not only human, I still thought. Much more man than just human. 

I tried to lighten my mood a little.

"I seemed so scared. I actually ran away from death…and well…they probably laughed because I was scared.You know…" my words trailed off.

He only placed a hand on my cheek.

"Run fast, and wherever I go, follow me. Regain your confidence; you are fully capable of it. No one can judge you. Hold my hand every time you find me."

Appropriately, he slipped a hand in mine. I fell again to the brink of tears and hid my face in him. So warm, so pleasant. I had a feeling that even if he had to let go of me to go home, I would never let this feeling leave me. I didn’t even know if it was the same feeling as being in love. Perhaps it was as though I had been saved (no doubt), and a simple “thank you” was no longer enough.

"Oh my gosh….thank you, thank you, thank you so much…what else can I say?"

He cradled me closer.

"Say that you will always trust me."

"Yes, I will always trust you."

"Tell me you will recover."

"Yes, I will recover."

"You will dream as if no one can stop you, as if the world never hurt you once. Dream as if you believe."

"I…." I was choking up the more I repeated the words, "I will dream as if…no one can stop me…as if the world never hurt me once…as if I believe—no, I will believe.”

He kissed my cheek lightly.

"Call this the beginning of a new season. Please come alive again. Be the wonderful you that I know you can be. I will always wait for you right here. If…you need me."

He was so close to my face now that we practically touched noses. I suppose this was a kind of love. Why was it me? I was human like anyone else, but I was special now. Today, I was selected to escape death. This was a moment of truth I never thought could be mine. I wanted to hold it to my heart as if no one could take it away from me. No, no one could (or can) take this away from me.

He let me stay in his arms and sleep. There, I fulfilled a life-long mission: I dreamed as if I was never hurt, as if I was unstoppable, and I believed everything I dreamed for once in my life.

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"(Okay, all of this is symbolic actually. >////< Before the time I got the concert tickets to VIXX, I was kinda…depressed. This story is a symbolic explanation of how the joy of being involved in K-Pop finally helped me escape my depression and the way other people made fun of me. Seems dumb, but I would have felt guilty ignoring it. I am not even kidding. Ever since that day, my life has been nothing but better.)" ~Bonnie Robertson.

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Comments are love, okay? COMMENT AND I'LL UPDATE ON EVERY STORY THAT I'VE POSTED HERE. Sorry, that's not a good prize because I'm a terrible writer. Remember, I did not write this. My friend wrote this. Okies?