A tug on the collar earned a slap to the wrist. A tug on the skirt earned a pinch on the arm. A tug on the sleeve earned a smack upside the head. A tug on any article of clothing earned some sort of punishment. Amber cringed as she stared at herself in the mirror, her usually gritty and dirty face made up with makeup, her cheeks hinting at a blush that was faked with that power stuff her mother insisted on her wearing.

“Mom, come on, I don’t really have to dress like this, do i? I’m just going out to hang out with some friends, it’s not like I’m going on a date with some rich guy in Paris,” Amber pulled on her collar, easing her head away from the suffocating fabric, her mother’s nails grabbing the skin on her arm like a crab’s claw, earning a yelp from the protesting girl. “Mom! Seriously!”

“Amber, you’re going to dress like a lady. You’re just at that age where you need to accept your femininity, accept that you were born with these lovely features of a girl,” Her mother d her chest then, sending Amber into a fit of frenzied curses. “And you’re going to watch your mouth!”

Amber pulled away, her skirt twirling around her legs as he spun away from her mother, her face red in anger. Storming off, she stomped angrily up to her room and slammed the door, making a point as the pictures that hung outside in the hallway rattled with her anger.

For some time, Amber had been getting money in the mail from an anonymous sender. The first time she received the strange envelope, a small note had been written in unfamiliar handwriting: here’s some money; go buy yourself some nice clothes. At first, she thought it was some sick joke that her mother had been playing on her, but then she realized her mother wouldn’t do something like that. Her mother knew that if she had the ability to, she would go right out and buy all the boyish looking clothes just to suit her needs, to please herself. Finally accepting that it was some sign from God that she could finally wear the clothes she wanted to, she kept the money tucked away in a small box under her bed.

After her outburst at her mother, Amber dropped to her knees at the foot of her bed, her skirt splaying around her on the floor, and dug around under the bed until she pulled out that special box with all the money she had been saving. It was quite an amount, as she hadn’t used any of it since she was sent the first letter that enclosed money, and with determination, she tucked it into her bra and sprung up from the floor, determined.

She feigned repentance of her actions towards her mother, her head bowed, refusing to meet her mothers eye. After a few moments of stony silence, her mother not quite believing her, Amber used the one tactic she knew would work.

“Mom, I’m going to go use my money and buy some new clothes,” She said, looking up with wide eyes,  and she could tell her plan was already working as she looked into her mother’s eyes. It wasn’t entirely a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth.

And with an enthusiastic shout of joy, her hands clapping together in glee, she was ushered out of the house in the horrid outfit by her mother. She grinned as she walked down the street, strangely confident though she was dressed in something she never dared get caught in. And the second she had the chance, she bolted.

Amber ran, her skirt bouncing with each step, until she made it to her usual store. The people working the cash register knew who she was, though they were taken aback by the sudden change in attire she had. She huffed, panting, holding herself up on her knees with her hands, hanging her head as she caught her breath. Then she looked up, reached into her shirt, and pulled out the money, slamming it on the counter, a look of fiery determination set in her eyes.

Hyunwoo watched form a distance, slipping behind a clothes rack, a small smirk on his lips.

Amber quickly bought a pair of basketball shorts and a baggy t-shirt, changing in the stall and tossing her skirt and blouse in the trash. She then began to wander around the store, picking out different shirts and shorts, pants and hoodies, and even multiple pairs of shoes. As she rounded a corner, she bumped squarely into a man’s chest, gasping slightly as she stumbled back, muttering her apologies.

“Oh, don’t worry. As long as you’re putting my money to good use, that’s enough of an apology that I could get,” Amber looked up then, astonished, right into the man’s eyes, the man who had been giving her the money, supplying her with just what she needed to get out of the horrible nightmare her mother insisted on her living. “Yes, that’s right, I’m the one who paid you. The name’s Hyunwoo. I saw tears in your future, and I didn’t want you to shed them when it wasn’t time. You see, I saw that your tears weren’t the type to get collected early.”

Amber just stared, her feet glued to the spot.

“Ah, you seem surprised. No, don’t be. It’s my job, I do this often. I like to help people, you see? When people need an escape, when they need someone to lean on when no one else is there for them, there I am, right by their side, a bright and shining angel ready to help,” Hyunwoo continued with a smile, tilting his head slightly. “I didn’t have someone like that for me when I was growing up. So I’m trying to make up for that and being that someone for other people.”

“Well... You certainly are an angel,” Amber muttered, her eyes grazing over Hyunwoo’s figure. Then, for a brief moment, she felt tears welling up in her eyes, but then Hyunwoo leaned down and pressed a small kiss to her forehead, and instantly the sickening feeling was gone. She blinked, standing there, gripping her clothes tightly in her hands, staring up at Hyunwoo. 

“Who are you?” She whispered, earning a small smile from Hyunwoo as he picked up a stray shirt that had fallen from the mound of clothes in Amber’s arms, placing it gently on the top.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Hyunwoo said playfully, cocking his head slightly before grinning widely. “I’m the tear collector.”

In Amber’s head, it was like that British television series that had been going on for ages: Doctor Who. There was a mysterious man, beautiful in many, mysterious ways, swooping down to rescue you in your time of need. “Hello, I’m the doctor” one man would say; “I’m the tear collector” said the other. Amber smiled, slowly making her way towards the check out counter as the mysterious man, the tear collector, walked out of the store, a humble yet marvelous strut in his step.

“Two peas in a pod,” She muttered, sliding the money across the counter as she had her items rung up.

⎛ end ⎠

♛ Author note ♛

Yes, yes. 

Doctor Who. 

I am quite the Whovian, I must say. 

Any other fellow Whovians out there? 

o ⩌ o