Amber's POV

Psst! Before I actually show the story to you, keep in mind that it is an essay, and a college essay at that. So you know what that means - MLA format, indenting, intro, body, conclusion, blah blah blah.

But! Since it is a story, I promise that soon it'll unfold into the novella its meant to be. Alright? Trust me.

Okay, well anyway, enough chatter; enjoy the show!

~*

Liu 1

Amber Josephine Liu

Professor Q. Song

English 101

March 9, 2020

Going Around in Circles

I remember it clearly; it was exactly 11:20 AM, at September 8, 2000, right when I was five years old, that I first stumbled into his path. Whether I actually had the right to or not, I have no idea, nor did I care at that time, because he was kind of in an emergency. At least, for a five-year-old.

It was a normal, sunny day, its rays slanting through the puffy white clouds to shower us with its golden warmth. The clouds above, pure white and as puffy as cotton balls, drifted lazily across the pastel blue sky, the many apple trees and rose bushes swaying contentedly to the mute music of the winds. Everywhere around me kids were playing wildly, swinging dangerously upon the swings or pounding on the plastic structures of the playground, all the while spraying sand around the entire premise.

Ignoring all of that, however, I just minded my own business, sifting sand in the huge, plushy sand box to create a sand castle with a dirty water bottle at hand, my short, black hair tickling the base of my neck as my favorite blue t-shirt ruffled in the wind. Occasionally random kids like our school's beauty Krystal Jung or the shy Luna Park came on by and played with me, but for the most part I was alone. Alone and safe, without a care in the world for anyone or anything. In fact, I was so intent on creating the castle that soon enough, my hands managed to bring to life a full-on estate, wowing everyone around me, even the popular kids...before -

"YAH! Come on you weakling! Are you really gonna back down already?" someone over-confidently teased, amidst a crowd of frightened kids, their hands clamped to their horrified mouths. I had no idea when this procession first gathered to see an actual fight happening, nor did I ever realize that everyone has departed from my wonderful masterpiece. But then again, it wasn't like I knew what day the sun would come up and when it wouldn't.

Despite how I knew someone was in danger, it wasn't like I had intended to help the poor guy from that stupid bighead's taunting, nor was I even disturbed by how lonely I was. I was used to being alone, for my college sister Janice already had enough on her hands studying and drinking beer with random guys, and my parents had a rather big working schedule. I've learned to fend for myself at a very early age, but then again, maybe that was the exact reason why, a few punches and gasps later, I quietly strode over towards someone who couldn't fend for themselves, at least for that while. It was the first fight, out of many, that I would endure throughout my life, and September 8 just happened to mark that first step towards the new dangers preceding later on.

Refusing to acknowledge how everyone silenced and hushed up once I walked up to the predator, I calmly stepped over a shaking, scrawny little boy tossed on the ground and stepped in face-to-face in front of a Korean, red-headed guy. His eyes were dull and dark, yet they were big and matched his threatening image, along with his square jaw, flawless white skin, and thin mouth. Just another pretty boy, I thought, rolling my eyes. Janice brought plenty of pretty boys home from college whenever she had the chance, and he looked just like a junior version of one of them. Who ever heard of a five-year-old with professionally dyed red/orange hair anyway?

"...Who are you?" he asked, quietly, as if this'll scare me. I mean, sure he was wearing black leather and all, but what did I care? Right?

"Shouldn't...I be asking that?" I asked in the same tone, my hand calmly lowering itself after flicking him, hard, in the face. His pridefully cold demeanor instantly crumbled with just one flinch in his passive, poker face, but was quickly replaced with an angry sneer as his hand flashed for a moment in the air, ordained with fancy rings, before it came down on the side of my head, harshly slapping me down onto the floor. My face thrown flat upon the stiff blades of green grass, my eyes widened for just a moment before I reminded myself to strengthen up, my fists curling in response. Instantly, as soon as they saw me knocked down, kids around me shrieked and gasped, some of them burying their face in their palms...But they didn't know that I was used to this already.

So I got back up, unfazed, and enforced a similar blow upon that guy, which made him stumble so far a blonde Korean boy (what the heck is it with these dyed-hair-guys?!) shouted out, in alarm, "Cheol-Yong-ah!"

"Aish, I'm fine, Sang-Hyun hyung!" he spat out, before standing back up on his feet and charging towards me, when Scrawny Guy finally decided to brave up and suddenly shoved me aside from behind, lifting his leg just in time to perfectly aim right at "Cheol-Yong's" stomach. Sure, Scrawny Guy himself stumbled after doing such a powerful kick (which surprised me even more than the fact that he dared to do something at all) but nevertheless he stood up for himself, especially in front of what I guessed to be the pre-school's ultimate immature princes. Watching him fall even worse than I did before, I stifled in my laughter as the kids, those who couldn't take it at least, ran away squealing stupidly towards their teachers. I never really won at anything, so seeing him finally glower at me before him and his scowling friends walked away, grass scattered in their various colored hair, was enough to make my day complete.

Once everyone has vacated the spot and I was the only one left standing, I punched a fist into the air as I cheekily smiled at nothing in particular, bathing in the spotlight of my own personal victory even if no one else knew about it. I couldn't deny the fact that I didn't want that dude to abuse me again next time, but just in case he did, I was sure I was ready.

"U-Um," someone suddenly stammered from behind me, making me jump as I whipped around towards the source of the voice.

"Yeah?" I asked in English, to Scrawny Guy. Then, I took notice of the fact that he, too, looked Korean and spoke, the unfamiliar language sounding strange in my tongue, "Yes?"

"T-Thank you," he shyly mumbled to his fiddling fingers, which were a pale peach just like the rest of his skin. His short black hair, albeit messy from the previous battle, still looked neat and tidy, and his clothes were simple and not overly rich like the enemies we just encountered. When I didn't answer, mostly due to the shock that someone said thank you to me that quickly and sincerely, he looked up, revealing a hesitant pair of swirling brown eyes and a slightly open, pink mouth, making me soften at the innocent sight.

"No problem," I said, shrugging. His eyes widened a bit, which I assumed was from my slightly boy-ish tone, but hat was something I could never help, even if I tried. Kids were always curious about it, and my sister wrinkled her nose at it, but I liked it, for at least it set me apart from those squealing girls, always giggling at boys or Barbie dolls or crying over a messed-up braid. I liked being tough, for it made me ready for whatever the world could possibly throw at me next.

"What's your name?" I asked, when I started feeling a bit awkward under his gaze. I wasn't sure if he would even understand me through my Chinese accent, but to my relief he replied, a small smile brightening his once clouded face, "Kim Kibum." An easy name, one who rumbles off the tongue quite easily. Unlike "Cheol-Yong" at least.

"Amber Liu. Nice to meet you," I greeted, holding out my short, chubby arm. Without hesitation he shook it, repeating yet stumbling with my apparently hard-to-pronounce name. I giggled and helped him with it as we slowly walked back to class, the shrill recess bell screeching loudly within the premise of the playground. Surprisingly, he was in the same class as me; I guess I never took notice out of my constant daydreams and doodles of robots and landscapes (I know, a very weird mix). But, with him added to my daily, idle routines, things became interesting as he thought of weird, silent games and drew rather...creative sets of outfits and flowers. Even if there were less than two hours before lunch came around, Mr. Bang scolded us so much that we were starting to get a bad rep in the class already. But I couldn't help it with all the giggles protruding out of me; I guess I finally realized what it was like to have a friend. Or not even a friend, but just someone who was constantly by your side, trying his best to express his thanks and make me feel happy with him.

Out of the corner of my eye, I did notice one of "Cheol-Yong's" friends, Sang-Hyun I think, staring intently at me as if he was thinking of how to best get rid of me and/or seek revenge on me, but I tried my best to avoid his scary eyes I just looked away, trying not to care. Unfortunately, their marks still remained upon Kibum through several purple and blue bruises, as I saw later on, when he winced when I lightly punched him during lunch time. They were marked all over his arms beneath his black, long-sleeved shirt, not to mention a few on his stomach, in which he graciously informed me of rather than prove it to me through vision.

"Just ignore those babos," I cleverly advised, rolling my eyes when I just caught the main perpetrator himself sticking a middle finger out in the air, glaring at me even if he was about, oh I don't know, ten rows of tables away from me? That stupid dude had guts, let me tell you. And not to mention a very stubborn kind of pride, one that annoyed me to the uttermost. As to the middle finger sign, I had no idea what that meant, but I tried to hide my confusion with the best poker face of my own that I could muster.

"But how?" he sadly asked, biting into his Nutella sandwich.

"It's okay, man; I'll be with you. Didn't you see me fighting him today?" I asked with a grin, trying to cheer him up. Up until then, I never understood the phrase, "the best way to help yourself is to help someone else," but I guess Kibum taught me that. He taught me a lot of things actually...

With my constant assurance, he smiled cheekily once more and pitched into our random Hangman games I drew all over my math notebook pages, the tick-tock's of time flying steadily all around us as, before we knew it, lunch was over. A little bit after that, the whole day was over and Kibum and I finally had to separate, walking towards home for the day to close. I was glad that the immature princes weren't coming our way, but it was a bit saddening to think that I had to leave my first-ever companion so quickly and be sent towards my unwelcome home.

Maybe that was what made me lean upon Kibum so much over the years that we spent together, growing up through pre-school, kindergarden, and even the early stages of elementary. The friendliness and happiness he easily eased off towards me was like sunlight bathing some cold, staggering flowers after one, long, torturous storm. Despite how he'd been the one to get the bruises from stupid "Cheol-Yong" that one day, his gratitude seemed to have no end as, day by day, he never failed to make me smile. That in itself allured me out of my stoic, independent shell and towards the new world called friendship, in which I was able to smile everyday. It was nice, it really was.

At least, while it lasted. 'Cause everyone knows that nothing lasts forever. Much to my dismay, I had to learn this the hard way, all too soon. It all started when, about a week later, as I was shuffling on home after a fun day with Kibum and  on a pineapple popsicle, that I heard someone in an isolated, dark corner of the sidewalk, crying, crying, crying, the sound ripping at my heart like a poor soul forever lost, wandering about the seas of humanity.

Once I stepped closer and craned my neck to see just who was having such a hard time, though, my jaw dropped, along with my popsicle, as my eyes took in what happened to be the irreversible truth.