Prologue

The city lights seem to make things clearer during the rainy night. The urban area itself was so loud but the only thing she can hear are the heavy foot steps and her shoes being splattered and dirtied in the puddles. Her hood hangs past half of her face, making sure to keep her head down as much as possibly while running from the slums of that tainted dump.

Here in Seoul, there are busy lights, busy streets, busy people, and everything seems to go in fast motion. As I walk through this crowd, there is no one that really bothers or gives attention. There's those, who think they have everything, think they know everything, or greed to have everything.

Then, there is those who needs something or someone just for the get by.

At this time, usually the city is calm, but the people create the greatest nightmares that keep it from even going to sleep.

I can't help but think to myself as to why people think they are just some being when they also talk big about how people change each other and the world.

I can't help but think to myself as to why this man only uses the woman once, or a few times till she breaks.

I can't help but think to myself as to why that woman chooses to abandon that poor baby in a shameful box by the dumpster, as if he or she is trash.

I can't help but think to myself as to why that child cons that poor old hag till he runs dry.

I can't help but think to myself as to why I am unable to do anything about it; why no one would care.

Apparently, difficulties, hardships, and ordeals are the alibi from doing anything about it, or pursuing action to make a change, but the madness of knowing something or someone is suffering just as much can corrupt the sanity.

I feel like my mind is once again in ruins. I can't tell where everything or what anything is anymore. The realms of this world are considered far too terrible for such youth to handle. The stigmas that mark everyone bring this eternity in total chaos.

I have my own wars to face and it has lead me to how I am now, living in constant movement within this dark abyss. I can only continue to lie to myself that there is some will or reason out there to live.

The sounds of men have screeched anarchy in her mind are once again roaring after her. She can only continue to rush into a busier part of town, in hope of shaking off those leeches. Chasing her down, she runs into a dark alleyway in hopes of camouflaging herself behind the dumpster.

Her heart drops down to her stomach when she hears their heavy steps approach closer to her where abouts. Slow and dreading, she tries to anticipate when they would spot her, the beads of sweat profusing from her forehead and neck down her body.

Me, this mere entity, has been able to remain and endure while still decaying within this eternity. It is yet where every day it withstands the stigma-making steel, and the brain withstands the constant quarrels coming from links to the first and second.

I am told I am only a child in this dark world. I am told to listen to empty promises. I am told to follow orders. I do so blindly thinking that it’s what is the right decision to be made. Doesn't that make us all children?

I can only continue to disobey and escape the insanity and the lunatic men that are always on my for the illogicals, asking for something I don't have, can no longer give, or something that isn't even worth half of their privilege.

Yet, they continue their endeavors through their own cold blood to draw the lives of anyone else for their own selfish lusts. The thirst seems to only continue till the satisfaction of the cold pain is felt by those who don't want to feel.

And as this youth goes on, we all become unsatisfied with ourselves.

As life continues to go on, it to know that if you truly live in your own filthy worth, we end up caught in our own lies. The misconception of what is youth in this eternity makes everyone blind to what is so called "sophisticated" or so called "mature" or furthermore rather than knowing how to hold ourselves responsible for what we have thought or done.

It to know how truly ugly you are.

It to know how truly terrible you are.

It to know how truly useless you are and always will be.

She folds her legs, knife out in front, ready to swing at any moment. She hears them come closer, with the pressure on her chest growing heavier with each step she hears. The man's shoes and black slacks reach out from the other side of the dumpster. It isn't until a few steps she is able to see his full figure from behind. After a few more steps of walking past her, he stops, and the beat of the base drum in her heart could not have felt more intense.

I have found myself too deep in this dark abyss where I can't seem to reach high enough for someone to save me. My hands are bound behind my back, looking up for a glimpse of anything only to have my hopes shot down.

But then again, who am I looking for that will be able to find value in me? What have I got to lose? Myself? Who would need such an impulse?

Out of the shadows, two street dogs protrude from the darkness and attacks him and he runs out of the alleyway, along with the rest of the men. Giving it a few more minutes to peak out from her side of the dumpster, the dogs cautiously approach her with a herd of puppies running to her from behind them, nudging their noses and and at the many scars and fresh open wounds she acquired from the hunt down. After seeing that they were gone, she looks back at the puppy pile they made in her lap, their animated spirits lifting her own up. One of the two grown dogs are nudging her from behind, as the other slightly pulls at her joggers.

Slowly getting all the puppies off her, they all try to lead her further down the alleyway, halting in her steps when she hears another running figure approaching. She turns with her knife up faster than she had thought, seeing a hooded figure turning into the corner, a few meters away from her. The person seems to not have noticed her, focused on something else. Keeping her distance, she watches her movements, seeing the figure frantically looking left and right of the open street. Quickly, the person pulls a cardboard box out of the dumpster, placing extra cushions, blankets, and something she couldn’t make out after pulling it out from her sweater, holding and kissing it before saying something she also could not make out.

After the individual spots her looking, the person freezes in their movement. Tucking a few papers in the box, the unknown character makes eye contact, barely to hear her under her breath. “Please.”

She stumbles back onto the street after determining it was safe go back out, slightly limping. Still having her knife out at the ready, she draws herself closer to the possible dangerous and unknown contents of the box. As if it was a cue, cries and wails come from the box when one of the dogs bark.

She lowers her knife down, calmly approaching the box, which reveals a baby bawling over the absence of the parent that has abandoned them to the street. She grabs the one of the notes to read: “To both my precious love and the future person that will become a greater and better part of his life, I hope he grows to know that his mother did not mean to be cruel to him. I did not wish to abandon him. I can’t have my baby get caught up in the mess that became my life from the day I met the very dangerous man that is after me: his father. I have been fed up with his abuse and his so called buddies torturing me, using me as a cash cow, hurting me for the most unjust reasons, abusing me as if I was his rag doll puppet. I can’t imagine what he would do to him when I am gone. I have escaped once, but they have found me again, and though I wish I was strong enough, I can’t keep continuing to run forever. I can’t lie to myself that I will be able to get away so easily. I won’t be able to protect you forever.”

“By the time this note has been read, I have made the decision that it was the time to let go, hopefully at the time when I was ready and prepared. Though, I won’t lie that day would’ve never came if it weren’t for the certain circumstances. It has come to the time where I know I am already on the edge of being caught and beaten, or I am already-” The sounds of gunshots and people screaming interrupts her, peeking out enough for her to see the concealed individual bleeding out on the ground, and looking to the other side to see a few men hustling away from the direction of the body, pocketing their guns.

She retracts fast from the fear of being seen and moving back down further into the dark with the dogs behind the dumpster, taking the box with her to hide. She continues, “-dead. It upsets me that I won’t be able to watch my one ray of light grow up. I can only hope that you live a better life, my precious one. Live a life that I know you deserve and owe to yourself. You must continue to fight to live a blessed life where I know you will be safe and healthy, and not get caught in the same situation I was in.”

She grabs the second page: “To whoever has found him, I hope you are able to give him a happier life than mine. At least take him to the foster home or orphanage if you are unable to take care of him. I don’t want him to be hungry. I don’t want him to feel cold. I don’t want him to be lonely. I don’t want him to feel unloved. For the 4 months that he has lived, I have and will always continue loving him until forever ends, from both my life on Earth and from the afterlife. Please take care him better than I could have. Please help him grow up to be a great man. Thank you for being the blessed and kind-hearted person choosing to care and love my only source of happiness.”

“And to my dear baby boy, I hope this note will have survived long enough for you to be able to read this. I’m sorry I have to leave you like this. I can’t have them get to you. Just know that I did what I did because I can’t have him take you. I can’t have him hurt you. I can’t have you suffer from the likes of him. I can’t have you become what he is. I want you to be able to find a good family, learn to love them, and love yourself. I hope you and whoever the person or family that is taking care of you is doing well. I hope you find your peace and joy, and keep living for each other. I’m sorry I couldn’t stay to watch you grow up. I’m sorry couldn’t provide you a good life. I’m sorry I had to leave you. I hope you come to forgive me. I love you, Jaehyuk.  ~~~your mother, Kim Irene”

She cradles the baby in her better functioning arm, wrapping him in the blankets and the rain-proof jacket the mother left behind, holding back her tears. She follows the dogs further into the darkness of what seems to be a never-ending alley. Reaching the end, she stops in her tracks to reveal yet another young boy with worn and torn clothes, messy hair, sporting several scratches and scars himself as he continues to tend to the other newborn puppies that are sleeping around him under a makeshift shelter of broken boards, cardboard boxes, and worn blankets. Blankets are scattered across the cardboard boxes that she assumed was for the other puppies and the parent dogs.

She makes eye contact with the boy, who also stops in his movements to look at her. Shaking off his gaze, he tries to make more space under the shelter and pulls out extra blankets from a box hidden in the corner, along with a first-aid kit. He motions her to come under the shelter, only to pull her under after seeing her hesitate to listen. He applies the gauze and wraps the limited amount of bandages around her deeper wounds that needed more care.

After tending to all her injuries, he hands her a few blankets for her and the baby. He tucks in the rest of the drowsy puppies and the other two dogs, who were following off to dreamland with their children.

It was faint, but she heard him whisper from under his breath, he finally let out a whisper, “Oyasuminasai.”

Even so, you eventually find yourself doing many things without knowing the reason.

Is it your heart? Is it the mind? Soul? Who knows. Maybe it's from the both agreeing or disagreeing with each other.

Whether it be good or bad, it makes you feel wanted.... needed.

Heck, I begin to find that baby in my hands pretty much every day. I can't tell if it's under the pity or if that's the only thing that I know will keep me sane in this dark world. With each passing day, more stigmas are made and endlessly haunt my body, mind and soul.

Yet, it is this small, innocent, creature that seems to make this dark gloom brighter, somehow making the urban lights brighter.    

As of right now, I may have been unable to find reason of myself in this world, but it is the need of someone else in the world that will make me stay.

Authors Note

OMG!!!!! Thank you for so much for reading! To make this less confusing, the italicized writing are first person POV thoughts of the characters, which will switch every now and then between third and first person. This chapter may have seemed a bit confusing though, but that's the mystery you'll solve if you continue reading. Because this is the prologue, this section will be very short and only an insight on my OC. My future chapters will be much longer than this (hopefully).  Thanks and enjoy!

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