I could tell you what it's like being locked up but let's just say it was tough and get it over with. It was tough. Tough as hell, and I went out toughened the hell out. My mother always visited me, she cried most of the time, so I wasn't surprised that she was crying when I was finally set free. She told me she loved me. I told her I was sorry. I told her she was the only woman I'll ever love from now on and she looked at me strangely and asked me what I meant. I shrugged. She studied my features and rubbed my arms in fondness.

Shortly after we moved to Busan, to where my cousin Jiyong lived. My father hated me because I have uprooted our family from where he had, as he had told me a number of times, worked his way up. But the bastard loved my mother and when she told him that we needed to move he quite his job right away and started packing. He resented me but he loved my mother too much to openly atagonize me as much as he wanted. My mother said it would be good for us. Us. Not just me. Because everybody started looking at us differently after that night. Us. Not just me. And every chance I can I would ask for my mother's forgiveness to which she would only nod. I love her. How could I do that to her?

Busan smelled like the sea or at the very least it smelled like salt. My uncle, Jiyong's father, had to pull a lot of strings to get me admitted to Jiyong's school and my mother was grateful and for that, so was I. She told me to work hard and I promised I would. I don't think I believed in my promise as much as I had that moment. So the first day of school, sixteen year old me, let my mother brush my hair lovingly and watch her wave goodbye to me as I headed for the bus stop. A girl was sitting by the bench, reading as she waits for the bus. She had a similar looking uniform only she had a skirt on instead of slacks. She looks up as I approached. She smiled.

"Hi." She greeted me. I turned away from her and faced the street. I hear her huff, clearly afronted by my lack of social manners. But I don't like pretty girls so she just has to deal with it.

The bus arrives hosting a good number of passengers and I let her get on first before finding myself trying to move through the crowd. The girl from before, the pretty one was small so she got carried by the crowd onto the middle quickly. I settled a few feet awayy from her and let myself watch her struggle to keep her self up whenever the bus hits the brake.

She was pretty. In a cute way and I actually almost laughed as she shakes her fists in annoyance when she almost fell for the nth time. She had medium brown hair, like milk chocolate and playful almond eyes. Her lips were pale pink and it was now set on a thin line of determination as she plants her feet on the floor anticipating for the bus to stop. She had nowhe