Anatomy Room: C12 Min Kyun

Hmm, ‘C’ classrooms are on the second floor right? Or were they in the left wing of the first floor? No. Definitely the third floor... This school is too damn big.

My dad's words from a few nights ago ring in my head like a mantra, ‘it's just something we need to do’, and the conversation from that night begins to conjure up in my memories.

●●●

“Wonwoo, can you come to the living room, I’d like to talk to you about something.”

I can hear my father's solemn voice from somewhere downstairs as I’m in my room reading. It’s a Monday night and I’ve just laid down in bed. I look down at my book again, remembering what page I’m on and with my hair still wet, from my recent shower, I place my novel on my bedside table and make my way down the staircase.

Keeping my eyes trained straight forward, I purposely avoid looking at the many framed photos hanging on the cream colored walls. The dusty pictures capture a smiling family of three that once was. The photographs represent a happiness that can never be filled again, forever leaving a burning scar nailed to the aging walls of a now quiet household.

Once my feet hit the soft carpet that covers the cozy living room I notice my father sitting on one of the sofas; I opt to sit in the matching chair adjacent from him. With silence taking over, I stare at my father, waiting for what needs to be said, but seconds pass and he's still avoiding my gaze.

The clock above the mantel makes its presence known with the constant ticking and I'm only becoming slightly annoyed. Just slightly.

He finally lets out a tired sigh, “The shop’s not doing too well… you know that.” I nod my head meaning ‘yes’. “But, um, I was looking in the paper a couple weeks ago and saw an ad for a building up for sell in a popular market area.”

Okay, so dad wants to move shops. Why is he making such a big deal about this?

“... In Busan. We’re moving on Wednesday to Busan.”

Oh.

My eyes grow wide in surprise while my eyebrows show forms of confusion. I can’t just move almost three hours away! I've always lived in this house, here in Daejeon, so why the hell are we moving so far?! I’ve never even been outside of Daejeon! My mind is racing like crazy.

Dad notices my worried expression (which is rare of me nowadays) and frantically tries to explain.

“Wonwoo, I know this is on such a short notice and also a pretty big change for you, and even for me, but It’s just something we need to do. Plus there’s a nice school there and I’ve already looked at the house we'll be moving into. It’s… not as big as this one, but there’s a library right down the road and the trek to school is about fifteen minutes, that's half the time of what you take to get to your current school… This is something we’ll just have to get used to, okay?”

His explanation of us ‘needing’ and ‘have to's’ doesn't really calm me down… in fact I think it made me worse. A new school, house, and city? Is he crazy?!

“Wonwoo?”

I need a least a few moments to capture this; to just find a grip in this sudden news.

The silence is suffocating as I stare numbly at the ground for a minute to take in all the information and to calm myself down a bit. In conclusion, it’s not like I have a choice with the whole move. Plus my dad’s the one who earns the money, to provide for us, so I really don’t have a say in what we do. With my mind still racing I nod my head while standing, then decide that the conversation is over, and head straight up to my bedroom.

Hours pass before I hear sounds of muffled footsteps approaching my room. The sound stops and is replaced by my father's tired tone.

“You won’t be going to school tomorrow, we’ll be packing. As for wednesday, we’ll drive up there, drop off some things at the house, and while we wait for the movers we’ll enroll you into your new school. You should try and get some rest for tonight, okay?”

I look up at my dad who's standing in the doorway of my open room. His face has a pleading mold on it, a mold I haven't seen since I was fourteen, on a certain gloomy day. The reality of the depths he was meaning, with that ‘okay?’ hits me with full force and let's me understand the realness of the situation. Moving my head up and down tiredly, he then smiles at me softly while letting a sigh of relief out.

“Thank you. Good night son.” And with that he closes the door and the sounds of his slippers on the hardwood can be heard until he reaches his own room.

●●●

With a map to the school clenched in one hand and my schedule in the other, I let out a sigh and begin to aimlessly walk down the wide hall. I also notice how not out of place I feel. No one seems to care or even spare a glance towards me. The uniform definitely helps with the whole ‘blending in’ thing. Knowing that I’m almost just as invisible as I was in my previous school gives me a sense of comfort.

My feet come to a stop when I spot one of the stairwells to my left and look at the sign that reads, Rooms ‘C-D second floor’.

Thank god!

I then let out a sigh of relief and continue up the crowded steps.

●●●

In my previous school my presence was practically nonexistent. Teachers never called on me, talked to me, let alone acknowledged me. This was a curse and a blessing for a few reasons; one being that I was never forced to talk, but the other reason is the effect that comes with being ignored, they always left me to spiral down with my dark thoughts alone.

Most students treated me as if I was a plague; always avoiding me and keeping a shocking distance. Also there were a couple of rumors that had been spread, some harmless and others were just outrageous. The harmless stories mainly consisted of ‘He's mute, just ignore him’ or ‘Yeah poor thing can't hear or talk anymore’ oh and my favorite ‘They say if you get him to talk he'll grant you wishes’ . Of course these rumors only stuck around in my last year of middle school, but high school is a whole different story.

When you grow a little older you learn new and interesting things, everyone knows that. Things like how you can read people better; sense how they feel just by watching their reactions on things you've said or done. With these new senses people can now take harmless situations and twist them into harmful, severe, and more personal ones.

Entering into high school means new people and new people mean new rumors and stories, well in my case it does. The rumors started about me consisted of, “You know he killed his mom right? That’s why he’s so quiet” and “They say he never talks because he so much ”. Yeah these hurt the most…

But I guess that night when my dad told me about the move, there was one good thing that came out of it, well maybe two. One being I’ll never have to hear those rumors again and the second being, new city, new strangers. So in short, no one really knows anything about me, if I really do speak, how I have no mother, and that I’m gay.

●●●

As I step into the brightly lit classroom, which is surprisingly quite empty, I notice there’s about seven to eight students, give or take, at the station tables scattered around the room.

That’s strange.

I check the class room number above the door and my schedule one more time for clarification. Yep, this is the right room. Maybe I’m just early. Timidly, I tap the shoulder of who I assume is the teacher, while holding out a piece of paper. The paper was given to me while I was in the nurse's office this morning, explaining my condition and what not. The elderly man turns around, gray bushy eyebrows raised high, lifting his head as he stares up at me.

“Oh my, aren't you a tall one!” His gruff voice fills the room with life, despite his short stature.

I bring my paper up a little bit higher, as if to bring his attention to the white sheet. Taking the voucher out of my hand, he brings it closer to his aging face. “Hmm?... Ah, Jeon Wonwoo. I heard you’d be joining my class. I’m Mr. Min.” He bows his head in a respectful nature and I return it with just as much appreciation. He then turns around and searches through some papers on his desk, then continues “Since this is not really a required course there’s only a few students, eight to be exact and that’s not including you, so don’t worry about your situation, you’ll be fine.”

Oh, that explains the lack of students.

Keeping a straight face, I wait for instructions on where I’ll be seated. Or any type of instructions really.

“Oh sorry, we have class in groups of threes on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so you can join Sungcheol and Jeonghan. They’re the only group without a third person.” He points to the middle station, where two boys, who look uninterested in anything around them, are sat together diligently. “Don’t worry, those two never talk to each other anyways, so you'll fit right into the little trio~” Mr. Min says in a cheery tone, while walking out of the classroom with a stack of worksheets. “I have to go and make copies, I’ll be back.”

This teacher is so weird…

Keeping my head low, I timidly make my way to my assigned group. The only stool available is the middle one, so I silently place my satchel on the counter top and sit. About three minutes pass and neither of them has said single a word.

I guess coo coo teacher was right…

To my left, Sungcheol, (I read the top of one of his many sprawled out worksheets) who’s the more masculine of the two, has been lazily texting on his phone, letting out a few lifeless chuckles here and there. And the one to my right, who I assume can only be Jeonghan, has’t moved an inch from his bored stare towards nothing in particular.

Maybe this group will work.

The other two groups though, they’re either studying quietly or are also on their phones as well.

As I’m occupied while reading my current book, a coupl