3. BIRTH OF SOMEONE ELSE

I wasn’t sure if I had any nails left.

When I looked down at my fingers, all I could see was red. It didn’t even look realistic. It was like a work of some horrendous makeup-artist. But the pain, oh, the pain made it feel very real. It was the realest feeling I had ever experienced. And I’d been beaten before. Not like this though. I had never been touched like this.

The corner of my forehead - my right temple, was bleeding. I could feel the hot liquid flow down my face, smudging my skin in red. There was a stinging scratch on my cheek, and something else… like a few tiny sticks had stuck in my skin, making it extremely painful to move my jaw. To put it briefly, my face felt messed up.

But my face was the least of my worries. Or… my thoughts. I wasn’t sure if it was worry I was feeling. It was something else. Something dark and twisted. And I felt like there was no way out of it, like I couldn’t express it in any way. I just wanted out of there. I needed to let it out.

I left my bike and my notebook behind. Those things carried very little value to me anymore. They were just… things. Thoughts on paper. Matter.

I glanced at my feet. They were running, surprisingly fast. And they had no shoes on them. I had climbed out of a window. The rough ground felt refreshing beneath my feet.

I followed the side of the road, until I could recognize where I was exactly. As soon as the sea opened up before me, I knew where I had to go.

***

Step after step after step. I walked for what seemed like an eternity. An eternity is a long time to stay inside one’s head.

Then I spotted headlights flashing behind me, and the adrenaline started pumping through my veins again.

He couldn’t.

There was no way he could drive, could he?

I glanced behind me, taking a few quick steps off the road. There were still no street lamps, so it was just me in the headlights, backing off towards an open field. The car slowed down. I picked up my pace. The sticks and stones sunk into my feet, but I kept on going. At that point I heard a weak cry come out of my mouth. It wasn’t a sob, but an animalistic squeal of help.

A dark figure stepped out of the car.

I couldn’t do anything but scream.

”Hey! What’s wrong?”

Hearing the voice didn’t belong to the man who I had escaped from, made my knees weaken. I stopped resisting and fell down on the ground. I let the tears come.

For some time, I waited for the person to come closer and offer their help or show me their compassion, their pity, but no one came near me. The person had stopped as I had fallen on the ground. And I couldn’t be more grateful for that. A touch on my shoulder would’ve made it worse.

When I finally could gather myself and raise my gaze, I noticed something familiar in the way the person was standing. It was a man, I could tell from his silhouette.

He could probably see me clearly, since I was sitting in the headlights. He could see me but I couldn’t see him.

”What happened to you…”

I couldn’t say it. I had always wondered why people couldn’t just say it out loud, but now I got it. I knew exactly why they couldn’t.

”I’m gonna come a little closer - don’t freak out, alright?”

I stayed right where I was, not able to move an inch.

Once he stepped aside and the headlights embraced his face, I knew immediately who he was. The guy I’d seen at the harbor a few days ago. The guy with the bucket hat.

I let out a shaky, relieved breath.

His worried eyes examined my face, hovering on my injuries. They locked on my hands which were resting on my lap. 

"Don’t be so ing restrained! Come on, move your arm!”

I shivered and jolted backwards, like someone had pushed me. I threw my arms behind my back.

”It’s alright! Hey! You’re safe, you’re safe now-” the guy took a few running steps closer and raised his arms protectively in the air. ”I want to help you, what happened to you?”

I tried to shake the image out of my head. It had came out of nowhere. I didn’t know where to put my hands. I opened my mouth to speak.

”I… lost my bike.”

The guy seemed hopeful. He took another step closer, like he was trying to approach an injured wild animal. ”That’s it?”

I nodded. That was all I could do. For now.

”Alright… Do you want me to call the police? To uh, report your missing bike?”

 I knew he wasn’t talking about the bike. I shook my head. I just wanted out of there. I wanted to go somewhere safe.

The guy lifted his eyebrows. It was obvious - he desperately wanted to call the cops. Somehow, I knew that he knew. ”Are you sure?”

This time I spared my neck and settled for a glare. My shock was slowly passing and the thick fog hovering around my thoughts was disappearing. The whole situation was passing, as I kept pushing it further and further away. I knew it wasn’t clever, but I couldn’t help myself.

”Oh come on-”

”Can you give me a ride? Since I lost my bike”, I insisted before he could continue his sentence. I simply couldn’t face this right now. ”And uh, I need to get… cleaned. I could use a shower. I can’t go back like this.”

”You’re going back!?” The guy was now right in front of me, staring at me with his bright brown eyes. For some reason, he looked angry.

”No! I’m going home.” I didn’t know what I meant by home. I didn’t know where I wanted to go. Everything felt like a bad idea.

We stared at each other for a minute, until one of us looked away. He was gritting his teeth, contemplating whether he should call the police or not. I couldn’t yet process what had went down, so I didn’t want him to do it. I would do it myself, later. When I had the courage.

”Who did this to you?”

I kept on staring.

”Tell me.”

”No…”

”Why-”

”…not now.” I dragged my shaky body up from the ground and walked past him, towards the car.

He followed right behind me.

”I hope you know what you’re doing.”

I didn’t. I had no idea. How could anyone possibly know what to do after being used like that. Just thinking about it made me feel nauseated.

***

We sat in the car in complete silence - I was leaning as far away from him as possible, and he definitely noticed it. I kept my eyes strictly on the horizon as we drove through the empty fields, all the way to the centre of the village. He parked the car in front of an old pub.

”I live there”, he said and pointed at the second floor of the building. ”You can use the shower and I can take a look at those… since you don’t wanna call the police.”

My head was throbbing so badly that I could barely hear him anymore. I nodded.

He lead me to his apartment, and I was blown away by how easily I had trusted this guy. Yeah I had seen him before, alright, but I’d seen… him, before as well. And look where that got me.

I read his full name from the posts by his front door.

Kim Hanbin.

”The shower’s that way. And help yourself with anything. I think there are some leftovers in the fridge if you’re hungry”, he said and pointed at the bathroom door. I followed his back with my eyes, until he disappeared from my sight. He was trying to give me space. And I appreciated that.

I took a long shower. While standing under the flowing water, the images came back to me like a film I’d seen a long time ago. It was crazy how many details you could forget in such a short period of time. I couldn’t remember exactly how I’d gotten out. Taking a look at my fingernails told me that I’d clawed my way out, which couldn’t be true. Although, in that case the scratches on my cheek would make sense if I’d pushed through a tiny wooden hole. All I could remember was that I’d been determined to get out.

After the shower Hanbin sat me down in the bathroom and cleaned all the scratches on my face. He’d found a bottle of vodka and a few cotton pads, and with those he succeeded to patch me up.

In the dimly lit bathroom, reality seemed slightly altered. All the colors broke off into a certain type of green, like the green lighting you saw in almost every indie movie. The sickening green of a surgeon’s apron. Even Hanbin’s hair looked slightly green. Not to mention his skin.

”What’s your name?”

I looked up in his eyes, and he looked down in mine. It was him who first looked away.

”Jennie.”

”Jennie from Seoul, right?”

I nodded when I knew for sure that he was done with cleaning my wounds.

”I’m Hanbin. I shoud’ve probably said that a little earlier.”

”Yeah, before luring me at your place”, I tried to joke around, but it felt way too early. I huffed exhaustedly and hid my face into my hands.

Suddenly I felt a hand on my knee, and in a second, like I’d been hit by a lightning, I jumped up and hit my shoulder to the medicine cabinet above the sink. Hanbin stood up right after me a raised his hands in the air. He didn’t say anything, but his widened eyes spoke for him. He hadn’t realized what he was doing. I held my shoulder and gritted my teeth.

”I’m sorry-”

”No, I should’ve known”, he said and shook his head. ”I’m sorry.”

We didn’t talk much, but there was this floating connection between us, that I couldn’t quite understand. When I moved, he moved and made sure that I wasn’t bothered by his company. We ended up sitting on the kitchen floor, eating the leftovers from his fridge that he had mentioned earlier. It was past midnight, and I still hadn’t called or texted anyone. I hadn’t done it because I didn’t know what I would’ve said. There was no way I was telling my aunt about any of this. I had a feeling this thing would probably stay right here, between me and this stranger who had picked me up from the side of the road.

”What do you do for work?”

I raised my gaze and was greeted by a friendly face. Now he was trying to get me out of my head, which was probably a good idea. The more time I spent thinking about it, the more difficult it became to comprehend.

”I write.”

”What do you write?” He bet