He wasn’t sure what to do when he heard the first scream; he stood rooted to the spot as his hand trembled. He wasn’t able to hear what Saet-byul’s mother was saying over Saet-byul’s screams, each slap resounding in his ears. He knew he should do something, especially when Saet-byul started coughing in between screams, but he stood frozen in place. She couldn’t be...that couldn’t possibly be... what was he supposed to do in this situation? He knew he should call, but what if it wasn’t what he thought? He wasn’t there, he was only hearing through the phone, but that should be enough, right?

In the end, he grabbed his home phone and dialed the police. They were patient with him, even when he was only able to give Saet-byul and Woo-jin’s name. They brought him to the police station first, taking his phone and tracing the still connected call. By then Saet-byul had stopped screaming, only her soft hiccups still heard through the phone. He was sure she didn’t know they were still connected, but then he wasn’t surprised.

Her mother was still saying things, reassuring Saet-byul that she would give her a new doll, that even though she killed Woo-jin everything would be okay. His fingers gripped the edge of the plastic chair he was sitting on, some of the officers sending him small glances. If he hadn’t listened to that call, he would think her joking when she said she killed Woo-jin. His classmate...no, his friend, his happy, carefree friend couldn’t be dead. He didn’t want to believe it; but after listening to her mother beating her and saying she had killed him, there was only so much he could deny.

Her mother mentioned his own name a few times, offering to make him into her ‘doll’. He didn’t know what a doll was, but she said it in a way as if she was replacing Woo-jin. His insides twisted, especially when he heard Saet-byul say she didn’t want him, not like that. He didn’t know what kind of doll they were talking about. The only doll he knew of was the one Saet-byul always carried around.

They couldn’t be talking about that, could they?

Eventually the police were able to locate Saet-byul’s home, and soon they were off. They told him to stay there; it was too dangerous to come along. They promised they would send someone to bring him down later. His mother was called to accompany him at the station since he was a minor. When she arrived, her face was tight, not betraying a single emotion as she listened to what he had done, that if it wasn’t for him Saet-byul would be dead. His mother’s only response was to squeeze his shoulder tightly, her other hand gently resting on his head. It was comforting.

He filled out the report, constantly checking the time and his phone. How long did it take to get there? Saet-byul was still connected to the call, but they took the phone away to a private room to listen. He wanted to know, he wanted to know what happened to his friend. Woo-jin was his only friend; he was especially special to him, and every part of him shook with worry at the thought of what could possibly have happened to him.

His mother tried to comfort him a few times, asking if he wanted to go home to get a quick rest or if he wanted to eat. He just shook his head and pushed her away, too wound up and nervous to do anything of the sort.

Eventually they called back to the station, saying they were able to find both Saet-byul and Woo-jin. They told him as much, but for some reason they weren’t as happy as he thought they would be, and his stomach dropped like iron. Woo-jin...that couldn’t mean Woo-jin was really dead, right? That couldn’t be it! His mother had to help him stand up, and he couldn’t look at the officer’s tight face. He didn’t want to see the sadness on his face.

They brought him to the hospital where they took Woo-jin and Saet-byul, a whole two hours away. They both had been taken into immediate surgeries –Woo-jin’s injuries much more serious than Saet-byul’s. He waited outside the surgery room the entire six hours Woo-jin was in there, biting his nails and his legs shaking. His mother waited with him, constantly reaching over and comforting him. It helped somewhat, to calm his nerves.

They wouldn’t tell him what happened to Woo-jin, only said that if it hadn’t been for him, Woo-jin probably would have died. He didn’t want to think of it like that. He didn’t want to think of the idea that Woo-jin had been so close to death, that if he hadn’t called that night he might never have seen his friend’s smiling face again.

He promised himself that after this, he wouldn’t care when Woo-jin bothered him. He’d let his friend poke his face during class and complain all day long if he wanted. He would make notes for him again, making sure he paid extra attention to make it as neat as possible. He would do anything his friend asked, as long as he made it out of this surgery. He had to. Woo-jin had to.

They eventually finished, and they said Woo-jin was stable. He was going to be okay. His legs gave out; his mother had to hold him up as they wheeled Woo-jin by. His friend’s eyes were closed; he looked like he was sleeping. Nearby he could hear another boy screaming and crying, a group of doctors running by him as they restrained the boy. His mother quickly gathered him in her arms, trying to herd him by to avoid the hysterical boy.

“Hak-yeon hyung!” the boy screamed over and over, grasping towards the doors where they had taken Woo-jin away. He wondered who the boy was crying for, but didn’t give it a second thought when they finally brought him to Woo-jin’s room.

His friend was still asleep when they finally let him see him, so many machines attached to his arms and a tube stuck up his nose to help him breathe. His mother kissed his cheek and said she would be back; she wanted to give him space. He nodded his thanks to her, more than happy she left.

His legs shook terribly as he tried to walk to his friends side, his eyes glued to his friend’s arms. Stomach bile rose to his mouth, his fists shaking so bad he had to grab his pants to still them. They were bandaged all over, but there were large scars that ran down the uncovered skin, some of them so awful looking he had trouble staring. His hands, his friend’s pretty hands, were mutilated –new skin had grown but parts were puckered up and scarred.

He couldn’t imagine what the rest of him looked like.

He finally noticed a small chair by the bedside and he quickly collapsed into it.

How....how could he not have noticed?

Surely, there must have been some clues as to what had really been going on at home. Woo-jin was always making sure he and Saet-byul were home on time. He never stayed out late. There were a couple times when they lost track of time, and the look of pure terror on his friend’s face when he realized should have sounded off warning bells. But he hadn’t noticed. He just thought they had a strict mother.

How could he have been so stupid?

With shaky hands, he reached out and took his friend’s hand in his own.

“I’m sorry, Woo-jin. I’m sorry.”