Yoo Nara

I glanced towards the clock, mulling over the fact that there was still over half an hour left and absolutely nothing I could concentrate on with Chansik occupying such a large part of my mind. I had already tried homework and even the internet, yet to no avail. At this point, I was contemplating whether it'd be a go idea to go at all, given the instability of heart and the loss of all functioning in my brain. 

It wasn't easy; keeping love a secret. But I had done it. Three years and still nobody had a clue.

It had been in the first year of high school, the hallways cluttered with wide eyed students in awe of the large expanse of the building. All around me, uniformed strangers pushed and shoved their way through, shuffling me towards an unknown part of the building, and into Chansik himself. Even at first glance, he was devastatingly beautiful. His smiling eyes that held such a distinct sparkle, the straight nose and that gentle, perfect smile. Three seconds was all it took. In that moment, he had become my angel in disguise, my beacon of light.

Suddenly, the slamming of a door and heavy footsteps interrupted my memories. I cautiously peeked out from my bedroom into the empty hallway, fearing what was to come. It wasn't very often that my father came home so early and so angry. But when he did, it was never pretty.

"Yoo Nara! You sick excuse for a daughter! Why is there nothing good to drink in this goddamn house?"

I cringed, mentally beating myself up as I listened to his screams. Last week, it struck me that hiding all his alcohol might make things better. Today, I saw how stupid it was of me to think that something as trivial as that could make my situation better. Nothing in the world would be able to free me from this hell.

Pressing myself closer to the wall of the hallway, I closed my eyes, waiting for him to find me. Over the years, I had learned that running from the inevitable was worse than waiting for the blow.

And just like I had predicted, the blow came.

I heard his ragged breathing first, growing louder with each passing step until it stopped before my face. I wrinkled my nose in disgust as I inhaled the foul scent of smoke and tobacco that he emitted.

Two hands roughly grabbed me by my collar, quickly working their way up to my neck, closing in tighter until I could harder breathe.

"Where is it?" he screamed again, still louder, right into my ears.

"Where the is it?" he cursed, his hands gripping tighter still. 

I felt myself slipping, down into the depths of darkness, my eyes shifting in and out of focus until everything became indiscernible. The air I had managed to garner before his hands took hold was swiftly waning, and each second that passed grew longer and longer. 

As circles of light began to dot my vision, his grip moved downwards to my shoulders, shaking me violently back and forth, banging my head on the wall behind me with every motion. It wasn't until he delivered a blow to my right cheek that he released me, sending me hurtling towards the ground, crumpling into a pathetic heap in front of his feet.

"Worthless," he spat, anger still seething from his body. "You and your mother. Worthless, good-for-nothing pieces of trash."

My father's figure retreated back towards the living room, where I heard the television set click on and the volume turned up high. The old leather couch groaned as extra weight sank down into it, signaling that for today at least, he was done.

I stayed curled up on the floor, savoring the renewed supple of air my lungs were taking in. Not moving; it was less painful that way. Even changing positions made me burn all over. My throat still felt raw and my cheek was undoubtedly stinging red. The throbbing in my head was still worse. Even my eyes were smarting as I had unconsciously let the tears trickle down sometime during the onslaught.

Rocking back and forth, all sense of time vanished as I let myself silently weep. It was irrelevant anyways, time. After all, what did time matter if I was going to spend the rest of my life like this? It was either that or die trying to escape.

Somewhere in the distance, a clock tolled. Six o'clock.

Chansik.

In my moment of darkness, he had saved me again.

Dragging my damaged body back up and around the corner to the room, I looked in the mirror, assessing whether or not I'd be able to make our meeting. The burning had died away some, leaving only a dull, but bearable heat that was only noticeable if I moved too much. 

I had prepared myself for the worse, but my reflection before me relieved my fear. It wasn't as bad as the other times. At least my arms and legs had survived without any major bruising. Even my face had managed to avoid any major scars. True, though my cheek was still pink, and my neck was tinted a pale purple, it wasn't sometime makeup and well placed clothing wouldn't be able to hide. 

At times, even I was surprised at how long I had managed to keep my abusive household a secret.

As I hurriedly threw everything together and snuck out the door, I thanked the heavens for this small escape. For once, despite everything, it seemed that a tiny bit of fate didn't hate me after all.