Living in this world we call life involves riding a car called fate, sitting comfortably as you await which path your fate would take you.
“Stop saying such nonsense, Lee Donghae.”
Looking up, the young teenage boy met his mother’s eyes which are filled with grim and sorrow. Those beautiful, chestnut colored eyes of his mother have no trace of optimism or hope in it; Just grim and sorrow.
These two emotions, according to his mom when she was still alive, are considered nothing.
“Look at you mom. It seems that your car had crashed already, smashed into pieces, leaving you with nowhere else to go.” He smirked cynically, “You are nothing now.”
For the first time that beautiful and warm sunny day, a cold and unforgiving slap touched his face.
“I’m assuming that there are more to come, right, mother?”
His mother’s once beautiful face contorted in anger. She bit her lip (she has a habit of biting her lip whenever she’s angry – a habit she had developed ever since she died) so hard, she nearly yelped in pain.
Looking up once again, he desperately searched for a sense of motherhood in her eyes . . . just a single drop of it would be enough to remind him that he still has a mother . . .
He found none
~ ~
With both his legs limping terribly and his arms sore from pain, he opened the door to his bedroom. Everything she had said (You big piece of ! You useless brat! How dare you speak to me in such manner? you! You are the probably the worst son here on earth!) keeps on replaying inside his brain, as if it were a broken cassette tape. Her words keep on mocking him. Her words had hurt him – both physically and emotionally. 
A warm drop of tear falls from his left eye, travelling all the way to his cheek . . . then to his lips . . .
Curiosity got the better of him as he decided to the small drop of tear. Amazing, he thought. How could something so tiny and so minimal in amount taste so good? Soon, more drops of tears fell . . . and Donghae found himself savoring the flavor of his tears.
They tasted so refreshing.
He had gotten so used to keeping and locking all his sadness inside his heart that he had forgotten how it feels to cry.
“Hush baby . . . mother will always be here.”
Yesterday, his mother would have said these words if she had seen him in such a helpless state. Yesterday, he was happy. Yesterday, his mother was still alive. Yesterday . . . fate had been a talented driver.
Yesterday, his mother had been the most honest and most caring person. Her heart wishes nothing but the best for her family. Her hands provide the gentlest and most soothing touch for that adorable little boy of hers, Donghae.
As a mother, she was nothing but pure perfection . . . 
“Mother!” A panting Donghae came running towards his mother. The beautiful woman’s face brightened up with a smile upon the sight of her little boy. “What is it that you need, Donghae?:
“Mother, look at my drawing!”
The little one proudly showed his mother the drawing he had worked hard for. In his drawing, the sun was shining very brightly, providing the three stick figures below it a comfortable sense of warmth. The tallest figure has short black hair which reaches his ears. The other figure has long, slightly curly brown hair which reaches her shoulders. The two of them are holding each other’s hands.
His mother was about to smile, until she realized something weird with the drawing, “Donghae, dear, why is it that the smallest figure has white gigantic wings attached on his back?”
The young boy replied with a cheeky grin plastered on his small face, “Mother, do you remember what you told me about fate? You said that fate is what you create with every decision you make. I have decided that I will be a person with wings! I will be a hero and I will fly up in the sky . . .” he looked at the skies above, “and I will bring you there with me. We will fly and we will experience happiness because of the freedom that we had gained due to the art of flying. That shall be my fate.”
The mother laughed heartily, “Son, you can never have literal and actual wings!” Donghae pouted, with a drop of sadness evident in his eyes, “but I’m sure that you will be able to help others with the pure heart you have. And besides, my son, I want to let you know that you need not to fly in order to gain freedom and happiness. This world of ours may not be perfect, but still, happiness exists here.”
Donghae sighed heavily, “But mother, do you really think that I can help others and be a hero if I would be a good person? Even if I can’t fly like Superman?”
“We think so, son.” His father suddenly appeared with a shopping bag. Smiling widely, the father reached for his six-year-old son and lifted him. He kissed the little boy’s forehead gently, “and as a reward for being the best son in the world, I have a present for you.”
He handed Donghae the shopping bag and the small one happily jumped as he saw a very luxurious toy car in front of him. He then started to ‘drive’ the toy car by letting the wheels take the car wherever it wants to. He smiled.
His parents laughed happily while watching him.
Too bad, the laughter didn’t last long, and Donghae soon discovered that his mother had been wrong . . . 
Several months later, young Donghae found his father embracing the arms of death as the former one found the latter one sleeping very comfortably inside a well-crafted coffin. He wouldn’t wake up no matter how loud they cry.
After the funeral, he realized that his mother, too, had embraced the arms of death in a completely different way. She had erased all trace of humanity and motherhood inside her heart. She was still breathing . . . but her soul had stopped functioning.
Young Donghae found himself sobbing at a corner of his room, with his toy car smashed into pieces. “Mother . . . p-p-please . . . c-co-come back . . . “
Exactly nine years later, Donghae found himself sobbing in that particular part of the room, wishing for the same thing he wished for years ago.
Fate is something you create with every decision you make . . . 
He heard his mother’s voice again . . . it keeps on replaying inside his brain . . . 
Fate is something you create with every decision you make . . . 
Fate is something you create with every decision you make . . . 
Fate is something you create with every decision you make . . . 
He put his hands on his ears, hoping that somehow, it would stop the voice. It didn’t.
Fate is something you create with every decision you make . . . 
“Stop it! No more! Stop telling me that damn lie, please!” He screamed frantically, hoping that it would stop the voice . . . 
Fate is something you create with every decision you make . . . 
Knowing that it’s no use, he had stopped screaming and crying. Fate is something you create with every decision you make . . . 
Then, after a few minutes of hearing that chant, he smiled bitterly to himself, finally understanding the meaning behind the words. Walking towards the mirror, he stared at his own reflection with disgust.
“You . . . Lee Donghae . .. have lived your life blaming your fate for everything that had happened . . . when it was you who smashed every drop of hope you have left in you. It was all your fault!” He screamed, punching the mirror . . . shattering it into pieces and leaving his reflection broken. Generous amounts of blood poured out his hand. Blood . . . oh, the color red surely looks beautiful and enchanting . . . 
“You blamed fate for killing your mother, when in reality, you could have done something to save her.” He chuckled darkly, “But what did you do? You also chose to die along with her. Fragments of the past keep on hurting you when in reality, you could have just lived the present . . . you could have at least tried to live . . . you . . . didn’t fulfill your dreams when you were a child. You’re not a hero. You can’t even save yourself. You can’t even save your mother.”
Blood kept on pouring out. It felt good.
“You . . . have suffered too much Lee Donghae. Life’s a bull, and so are you. Let’s put an end to your suffering, shall we?”
He began searching for something. Anything sharp would do.
Then, something shining very brightly caught his eyes, with the light of the sun reflecting against it: A kitchen knife.
How it managed to enter its room, he didn’t know. Perhaps, it was fate that had put that knife in the room.
“Stupid Donghae. You wouldn’t believe in fate anymore, okay? You are the one responsible for your fate” He said to himself. “This is your fate.”
Then . . . with a slash of the knife, more blood poured out. Then another slash . . .and another . . . 
Minutes later, an angel with dark wings soared highly and proudly in the skies above. Finally his dreams came true.
Author’s note: That was …. An epic fail. But I haven’t written anything in a while, so I guess I have to be proud of this fic. At least, I managed to leave the world of writer’s block 
The things written in this fic shouldn’t be taken too literally. I attempted to use symbolism. Interpret the signs I have given you in any way you would want to 
I hope you comment and at least tell me your opinions.
That is all. I hope whoever reading this now would have a nice day/evening. 
-Lei