Dear Mr. Kim JaeJoong,

I can still feel the hard concrete on which I fell for the first time. I knew it wans't right, I didn't trip over anything. Everything just stopped and I couldn't move. I couldn't call for help. I couldn't move. You were the only one who saw me. Not even my mother came to help, she was too busy drinking her heart out.

She was content with that life every single day, laughing to herself and beating me until she was satisfied. I don't know why she did what she did, it was all well until you came along.

My best friend, my worst nightmare, my everything. That's what you were. I could tell there was this guilt in your eyes, maybe you thought you were the one who caused the beatings.

You were, but I didn't blame you. She just thought I wasn't as good as you were, not the perfect child she wanted. She wanted you.

The only thing was, why didn't you help me? Why didn't you step in when she kicked and screamed? You pretended as if you didn't see, but you did.

As much as I tried to cover them, you could see my bruises, my cuts all over. I felt embarrassed to show them, but you didn't mind.

My mother was like that until that fateful day. Her liver and kidneys were failing, from the alcohol, I thought. She wanted me as a donor and nearly dragged me onto the operating table. I thought she was going to cut me until she was happy again. I wanted my mother to be happy.

But she died in the hospital and I was an orphan. Your mother took me in, I'm thankful.

I don't want to be in my mothers position, but I can't avoid it.

Mr. Kim JaeJoong, I am going to die.

{ day 81. }