CHAPTEReight 

。HAN AERA
There are times where things remindes me of who I am, but there are also times when they remind me of how weak I was.

It was like the same day where I would be hovering inside the fridge to get some sweets to eat, sleep for the rest of the day, or even tries to call my mom so she will remember that she has a daughter. Maybe even wait for Krystal to get off work, but then I’ll leave afterwards because the same damn reason, she’s was too busy to even look at me. I didn't had any classmates to hang out because they hated me for some cliché reasons, but it wasn’t the reason why I don’t get along with everyone. I just like distance and space, I felt like they were suffocating me when they got too close.

My head automatically turns toward the door when it buzzed. I wasn’t expecting anyone right now, but my blood weirdly pumped excitedly at the side of my head.

“Mom.” I unknowingly muttered, maybe it was instinct, but I was sure  it was her. It really excites me, and I don’t even knew why. I don’t like seeing her but that fact didn’t ease my longing for someone who can be with me, even for a few moment. I was alone all of my life, people come and go and that includes my mother.

The door didn’t even manage open completely when it closes as soon as my mother got her body inside. She is a sweating mess and panting. I stare at her and I feel like someone stuck my heart inside, deeper than before. My mother didn’t look okay, she look worst. I hate it when she looks like this.

“There was a ing stalker outside our gate, he was following me around. He can’t see me like this, no one should know that…” She trails off, her eyes that surrounds by dark circles widen in shock as she looks away from my knowing stare. I knew it, she’s looks like everyone who was facing depression and found that disgusting thing to get away for a while.
 

“Be a good daughter and shoo him away.” My mother said as I hear her frantic footsteps getting away from me, as if I was the one that she was running from instead.

I open the door and did what she said, it was actually an easy task. This was not the first time I’m going to face an insistent media guy, I’m used to it.

I walked calmly toward the middle age man who is blinding me with his camera flashes. I couldn’t care less, I was a nobody and no one will waste their time looking at my photos.

“Sir, you’re invading my privacy. You need to leave this place or I’ll call-” I’m cut of by a extremely blinding lights. He pointed his camera directly at my face, and I fought the urge to yell at him so I sighed loud.

“Sir, can you stop that for-” another blinding lig