"I don't remember."

I had a typical family any child would have - a mother, a father, and an older sibling. We lived in a house that felt more like place you would go to in the summer to get away from everything. To arrive there in excitment and awe, only to leave in a haze of sweet dreams and fleeting memories. It was in Bucheon. If you're not sure where that is, it's a small city, wedged between Incheon and Seoul. It was like a mix between the hustle and bustle of street life and the quiet scenery of the country. It was a flurry of things that I couldn't even begin to explain, let alone remember, but I just knew that everything was beautiful.

I was always a fan of the night life. The way everything would just light up so brightly that you could never see the stars made me never want to look away, but I guess you could say that for any city. From a bird's eye view, I liked looking at the blazing streaks, clutching onto cars as they drove by and leaving a blur of where that person may be going and what their significant importance was to it. A family to get home to? A lonely apartment that only contained the silence of your life? Or maybe just a person who wants to look for somewhere to belong. Somewhere that they could feel welcomed, or just a place where they can lose themselves and let go of everything. I knew how that was like when I reached a certain age.

Before that, I did what any kid would do growing up, I went to school, I made friends and I lost them al at the same time, and I tried to fit in. I did what I could to fit in with everyone else and be like everyone else. I followed along with all the different styles and standards of everyone else. I realize that I've put on a mask a long time ago. A mask that has been on so long that it has become who I am. It didn't help that I was never good enough. I was never good enough for anyone.

I wasn't good enough for my teachers, my so-called friends, and for every single person who depended on me and expected that I could do something. Even my parents.

I had an older brother. By seven years in fact. He was someone I looked up to and idolized. I mean, what kid didn't do something like this? Follow in the footsteps of your older sibling. Even at a young age I tried to imitate my brother. It looked just like a cute litttle kid trying to do what his brother did, but it wasn't just that. No, it was more than that.

After, I had begun to realize that I could be my own person and do what I wanted. To have my own personality and like what I liked under no influence of others. I couldn't do that. Not after following my brother so closely that i may have been a split image of him despite my small failures and differing features. I got used to following being in the shadows and following what others did. I could never stick to one thing and keep at it for so long that I fell in love with the mere thought of it.

I wasn't that kind of person and I could never be that kind of person anymore. I don't know why. It was one of those things that were just the way it was. Something that seemed wrong, but when changed it felt too different and too odd to be right. It wasn't me. It would never be me. But in reality, have I ever truly been me?

Following my brother, following Chanyeol. I wanted to be someone they wanted. I always wanted to be someone who would be wanted to others. Someone who was useful, who fit the ideal. I don't know what it's like to love from the bottom of my heart. I wish I did, but I don't. Maybe I do, maybe I don't, or maybe I just can't remember. It wouldn't matter anyway now. Everything just feels empty, like there's nothing, but something - if that makes sense.

It was like being in a deep, dark well. You can only see darkness. You can only hear darkness. It was like a deafening silence with the ocasional *plunk*  of a water droplet. If you stayed in there long enough, it would drive you mad. You couldn't hear anything but the water, and you couldn't see anything but the small twinge of light if you looked up. When you reach for the one circle of light, you realize it's too far, that you can't and won't be able to reach it. It brings panic and you suddenly feel it all at once. A feeling of dread but peace. It comes like harsh waves but a gentle caress once you're enveloped in it's arms.

Time and time again, you would experience this. But each time feels like the first. Like you've never felt it before and like you'll never feel it again. When it was all over, everything would fade to black again. You were back in the well. I was back in the well. Then it happens again, but differently.

There isn't peace, only fear. You claw at the sides of the wall hoping for escape but nothing happens. You know nothing will happen. But that's just how we are. How people are. We try and try even though we know it's futile. Even if you can feel your nails ripping from your skin and the chocked gasps stuck in your throat, you go on. You don't give up. When the waves hit again that's it. That's all there is. It knocks you out so fast that you don't even remember. It was as if your body had rejected the memory completely to save your from yourself. From whatever was at the top of the well.

When you look up again, are you sure it's the light?

Their face is blurred out. I'm in a daze and I can't shake the sleep from my eyes.

I hear a faint melody.

"How about this, Baek? Do you like this tune?"

I see a child, just as myself, sitting beside him. Eyes wide in amazement and an ecstatic smile on their face.

He hums in a reply, nodding, and says, "I love everything you play!"

"Love? You like all of the song so much to the point you love them? You know, that's a really strong word, Baek." He drags out the word 'really,' like you would for any child.

"It's okay! I heard that it's good to love a lot! To love as much as you can so everyone can be happy!"

He seems ammused, "Oh . . . really? Who told you that?"

There's a pause.

". . . I don't remember."

What?

"I can't remember." The boy looks like he's about to cry.

"It's okay," he tries to soothe the boy, "when you can't remember you can always make new memories."

"But why would I want to do that?" 

"Because you can let go of everything that makes you sad," he pokes the boy in the chest and he giggles.

"Why would I want to 'let go'?"

"Sometimes it can make you so sad that you get sick."

"Why would you get sick?" Like a normal child, the boy asks so many questions, again and agian. Relentlessly as anyone his age would.

"Well, I . . I don't know."

"But why don't you-"

"I just don't. I don't know everything, Baek. Okay?" He was firm, but not angry.

"Okay."

It goes quiet.

He strarts to play again.

It's a sad tune now.

To be completely honest I had a lot of memories like these. Cut off and so abstract that it felt like it wasn't me. Like the boy I saw wasn't really me. He was so different. So alive. The light in his eyes shinning to the point that it seemed like he never knew what saddness was.

That must be so ironic, with how miserable I am now.

It's weird. It's always been so weird how my mind has become a mess of broken clips and pieces of stupid thoughts. It always felt like I was all over the place, like I was here, then I was there, but really, I never did belong anywhere. In a way, I had jumped from place to place, from person to person, and from what I loved to what I didn't love. Not literally of course. It was just that.

He said that love was a strong word, but how can a word be strong if it's just a word? It doesn't necessarily display an emotion or act out something that is loving. It was just a word that was flung around so needlessly that I don't even believe that it means anything significant or special anymore.

I had used it to many times to be true.

I said I loved playing the piano. I said I fell in love with Chanyeol. I said that I could never love anything that deeply again.  No matter how hard I try to rekindle that passion I can't do it. I can't feel what I felt before. It was like the night life. It looks all the same and everyone else thinks that it looks the same, but it isn't. It could never be the same. Not with all the different cars, the different people, the different reasons people have for being there. You don't know. You could never know. In my cause I could never remember. 

Or maybe I just didn't want to.

I'm sorry this chapter was a cluster i'm sorry it's so short WELP THAT TOOK FOREVER TO UPDATE I AM SO SORRY. AT LEAST I PICKED IT UP? SOMEWHAT? STILL ON TRACK THO. WITH THE ENTIRE PLAN OF THIS "THING" I KINDA SPLIT THIS ONE WITH THE NEXT CAHPTER SO YEAH. I AM SO SORRY LIKE SUPER SORRY. *sits in a well and stays there* - SAM