She was pushed down to the ground, her head felt as if it were cracking against the tiled floor.  Seulgi tried to pull herself up but her body wanted to stay down.  Her father rested his foot against her back.  She felt him press his leg down, crushing her.  She gasped for breath, as she found her lungs unable to take in oxygen.  She began to feel lightheaded and she gasped for more air.

Seconds passed but they felt like hours.  When there was no air, time seemed to pass by at a snail pace.  She could hear the ticking of the clock clear in her mind.  She would die like this, without air.  She heaved herself upwards, trying to take in as much air as she could before being slammed back down onto the floor.

“What did I tell you to do?” her father asked, taking her ponytail into his fist.  He pulled at her head.

“Never,” she said, through a gasp, “visit.”

“Why?” he asked, pulling her hair back even harder.  Seulgi couldn’t speak.  He seemed to realize she needed air to understand him and released her just enough for her to answer.

“Because she’s as good as dead,” Seulgi whimpered.

She was just done.  She couldn’t live like a prisoner in her own home but she would have to.  Seulgi knew in her heart that she was destined to live like this.  She was meant to be hurt and bruised.  Perhaps her purpose in life was to receive the abuses of her father and help him manage his aggressions.  She was made to be a punching bag.  

“Good.  Now will you go back there again?” her father asked her.

“No,” Seulgi said, mentally sending a silent apology to her grandmother.  He hummed in approval and walked out the front door.  As much as she didn’t want to listen to her father, she was at a breaking point.  Seulgi hated it.  She’d accepted her destiny but she hated it.  

Her body could only tell the story of scars and a pain that had broke her family apart.  There was no happiness or comfort in her life.  

For that reason, she craved the escape.  Her body needed to feel that fake gratification even if it were just for the hour or two.  Seulgi just needed proof that she could feel.  She wanted to know if she were even capable of it anymore.  But tonight wasn’t that night.  The week had just started.  She couldn’t indulge in her weaknesses so easily.

She picked herself off the floor and grabbed her cell phone.  There was only one person she was interesting in talking to at the moment.  

“What’s up, sweetheart?  Anything violent happening?” he answered.

“Jongin, tell me something interesting,” she requested as soon as he picked up.  Her chest ached from the pressure that had been put on it.  It hurt her body to speak and so she just wanted to listen.

“Like what?” he asked.

“Anything.  You know more about me than I know about you.  Don’t you think that’s kind of unfair?” Seulgi asked, hoping she sounded as normal as possible.

“Seulgi, the only thing I actually know about you is that you use cheap tampons and that your dad beats you,” Jongin reasoned.  “And I’m still pissed off you won’t agree to report it.”

“I mean the little things, Jongin.  Don’t you think we should get to know each other besides what we already happened to find out?” Seulgi pressed further, ignoring the comment about her father.  She had called Jongin to distract herself from thinking about the man.  She didn’t want to talk about him at all.

“That’s what friends do over the phone,” Jongin mused.

“Aren’t we friends?”

“I don’t want us to be friends,” Jongin said.

Silence.

Seulgi cleared , unable to process his bipolar attitude.  “Bye Jongi