Reflecting on recent events, I was fully aware of how my circumstances did really turn into a nightmare. At this extent, there was one thing I couldn’t detach myself from. Someone to talk to. A person I could share my misery with. A place I could seek advice from. Staring vacantly at my phone screen, I hesitated to call the only name that crossed my mind. I had never missed to share every sorrow and delight with the girl but apprehending very well the girl’s personality, she wasn’t going to take on everything without exploding. And if there were things I’d had enough, they were undoubtedly trouble and scenes.

Massaging my throbbing head, I got out of my bed, my phone left abandoned on my pastel sheet covered mattress. Making my way down the staircase, the dimly lit living room caught my attention. Apparently I wasn’t the only one still up at this hour.

“Dad?”

Without turning around, he responded to my call with a mere hum and I set my eyes on the scattered papers on the coffee table.

“I thought you always work in your study.” My dry throat reminded me of why I was there in the first place so I proceeded to the kitchen, loudening my voice so that he could hear me.

“The aircon’s not working. Someone’s going to come and fix it tomorrow so at the moment, this seems to be a perfect place.”

I walked back toward the living room with two glasses of water on my hand. Placing them down gently on the semi-circular surface, I sunk myself down into the sofa across him.

“Why are you still awake? Tomorrow’s school day, isn’t it?” Fixing his glasses, dad briefly looked at me before his focus was back on his work again.

“Yes, it is.” I looked down onto my lap. The thought that had been bothering me lately was back to haunt and I didn’t even know how my mind came up with a particular consideration. Probably frustration or fear were the reason behind it that I anyhow began to start the topic in a slow approach.

“Dad…what do you think about…bullying?”

Well, I didn’t mean it to be that straightforward but tried to figure it out yourself and you’d know that coming up with an appropriate opening wasn’t going to be that easy. When dad tore his focus from the papers to me, I thought it was about time he would bombard me with questions but he surprised me when he started to narrate instead.

“Well, I’d say that it is a very irresponsible act. Parents send their children to schools so that they could develop their skills, find their interests and the fact that kids have time to bully others shows that they’re actually wasting the opportunity and not taking their study seriously. I always think that academic excellence isn’t really the issue for kids nowadays. Moral and ethical values are. Parents do not raise their kids just to see them growing up without manners.” I thought I saw the gleam of hope as I listened carefully to dad’s opinion but then his next words crashed everything down. “But you know what? Bullying will never happen if the bullied ones stand for themselves, show everyone that they can’t be oppressed that easily. Crying won’t solve the problem but instead is like showing your opponent your real weakness. Basically, it’s up to them whether or not they want to change. Otherwise, they will always be the hopeless ones for the rest of their lives.”

Frankly speaking, Dad’s whole words did describe me very accurately. He might not direct it to me purposely but I couldn’t help but to feel like one of the hopeless people he mentioned.

“What’s the matter? Who’s being bullied?”

He should have asked the question earlier and I would seriously spill everything out, not even leaving out any single detail because honestly, my patience had hit its maximum limit. But now that his words were stuck at the back of my mind, even facing him felt like a difficult task.

“Hmm…just a friend. So, I think it’s time to go to bed. You should rest too. Goodnight, dad.”

With every step that I took, each kind of different questions came to mind. Had I not stood for myself? Did they see me as an easy pathetic target they could bully? Was I the one at fault for showing them my vulnerability? Before my talk with dad, I was so damn sure I did nothing wrong to deserve all of their cruel treatments. Now that I thought more deeply, maybe, just maybe I could try harder.

I could pretend that I was okay and looked strong outside but deep inside, I wasn’t really fine with the fact that my own classmates no longer exchanged even simple greetings with me. I wasn’t particularly close to every of them but we had never once missed a simple acknowledgment of each other’s presence with a ‘hey’, ‘morning’ or anything like those. With Eun Byul still absent today, it seemed like I would again go through the days without any company.

“Hon, what’s wrong with you?”

“I’m not in a good mood now, Hye Jeon. Leave me alone.”

I halted my steps just in time unless I would have already bumped into Oh Sehun, who like a ghost, came out of the woodwork with his eyes fixed straight ahead. I’d love to take any other route if there was any but having his classroom next to mine, I was left no choice but to pass through it anywhere I’d go.

“Sehun!!!”

A shrill yell resonated in my ears and I had to cover them to avoid getting deaf by the polluted noise. In front of me, stood an infuriated Kim Hye Jeon, both hands resting on her hips. I sh