-Yesung’s POV-

Click. I looked up to see Angie closing the door.

“Hey.” She smiled.

“Hey. I wasn’t expecting you.” I shifted in my blankets, trying to only move my upper body, wincing as I failed slightly.

“You know about that thing writing a letter…” Angie’s words trailed as she gazed out the window, her thumb absent-mindedly the cover of my journal.

“How far did you read?” She looked at me, puzzled, as I gestured with my head. “My journal.”

“Oh. Only up to the third entry.”

“That’s good.”

She knotted her hands together. “I’m going to…I’m going to try what you said.”

“Said what?”

“Talking. About myself.” She sighed. “Every time I try to write a letter, it doesn’t seem good enough, so I crumble it up. I’ll just…talk.”

“Okay.” I smiled. “I’m here to listen.”

“Good.” Angie hesitated. “Do you mind…if I face away from you? I used to talk to myself when I was little. I don’t know how it may be if I feel someone is actually listening.”

She did look young and innocent, the way she looked so unsure.

I nodded. “Okay.”

She turned around and sighed. “Where do I begin? My name is Angie. When I was about 8, my dad died in a car accident. I think that’s when I realized what life really meant, that everything wasn’t exactly a fairytale. Regret was a new thing, and as I learned what it meant, my childhood slipped away." 

She a pattern on the wall. "I thought getting together with Ethan would...distract me. Take away all the pain I was feeling. After my father died, my mother moved to find a better job. I made friends, but I never felt like they actually knew me. I could pretend. I could feel happiness. But belonging... I never felt accepted for who I was. My friends wouldn't understand why I always studied, almost obsessing over getting good grades. I felt that academics would elevate me in life, and be able to bring pride to my mother's face. When Ethan came, it seemed like he understood. He never pushed me when I said I had homework. I realize now that he was the one who did the talking, never the listening. That's what I have been doing my whole life. Listening. Waiting. Never speaking. Always trying to deny the emptiness inside. I guess if I really want to heal, I need to stop doing that. But it's hard to stop after doing it for more than a decade."

Angie fell silent, staring at the wall. 

I decided to speak up. "You have stopped. You were speaking."

She looked at me, her eyes thoughtful. "Yeah. I did speak." I let the silence fall again.

I cleared my throat and winced. It seemed my breath capacity had decreased after my injury. Doctors had told me not only would I have trouble walkingand twisting at first, but my diaphram's movement had been affected. "So when is the court date?"

"I've talked to my attorney. It'll be in a week. You don't have to come. The medical information the hospital provided is enough evidence."

"Okay." I wanted to be at her side, but I also knew she probably wanted to do this alone. Stand alone, and show how strong she was. But perhaps I would also seem like a coward, not standing up. What would I choose to do?

*

SORRY FOR SO SHORT UPDATE!!! And late too. >.<

So glad Yesung is okay and celebrated his birthday (better late than never >.<). So how you guys doing?