This is only a game.

This is only a game.

No one could understand the hell that she lived through. No one.

There she was once again. Sitting on the last desk at the back of the class, alone.

Bullied by everyone, that’s what she was.

But no one knew the hell that she had to bear, from where she got those bruises, how much hurt she was.

It wasn’t external pain. It was internal. Only internal.

Today, just like any other day, she was afraid of getting home.

Home. No, it was more like hell.

She was afraid of being touched again by this man. But it never changed. Since she was a little child he was using her, closing her inside that dark room, removing her clothes and touching her… touching her everywhere, doing everything he wanted just to pleasure himself.

But this hurt her. It hurt her so much...

And if she didn’t listen to him, she was beating her, grabbing her by the hair and throwing her all around.

He didn’t buy her any clothes. She had to work to have some. She had to steal her food from him.

She felt anger, fear, disgust, every time she heard the word ‘father’. It was reminding her of him. Her own father.

Everything reminded her of him… Her .

No one could understand why she was so pale. No one could understand why she was so skinny, so weak.

The lessons had finished again. Just like yesterday and the day before yesterday.

She stood up and slowly walked to the door.

Her body was numb; he had abused her yesterday as well.

This is going to finish someday… This is only a game. Life is a game.

“ Hello Bom.” There he was.

The only person that still cared about her. The only person who wasn’t bullying her because of who she was.

And who was she actually?

“Hi…” she greeted him with her week voice, not looking at him in the eyes.

Inside these two dark eyes which were full of strength, which were full of confidence, full of passion and love.

But she couldn’t see the last one.

How could she?

She was feeling disgust because of her own self, because of her own body, because of her own father and mother. Her father because he was abusing her and her mother because she had done nothing about it and run away “with the love of her life.”

She was feeling hatred for herself because of her own father, the one who was almost always drunk, and the one who was touching her all over since she was a child.

Since she was only 4 years old. And now she was 16.

Who could love her? She thought she was dirty. Yes, dirty. He was too perfect for her.

TOP smiled and tried to take her hand. However she backed up. She didn’t want to make him dirty as well.

And this hurt him too. Because he loved her. Since so many years he really loved her. He was the only one who could see that she was hurt, but she wouldn’t let him help her. She wouldn’t let him know why she was hurt, what was wrong with her.

Bom began to walk away, head down.

Once again he wasn’t able to see clearly her delicate characteristics. Her pale face was hidden by her long wavy brown hair.

For so many years he had been watching her. She was perfect before his eyes.

Perfect.

He had that bad feeling. He somehow knew that something wrong was going to happen.

There he was again, watching her walk away with her week pale legs. And for another time one question spin inside his brain…

Why?

••••

Why? Still questioning this herself.

School was already over but Bom didn’t want to go home. She didn’t want to face that hell again.

She wanted all this to finish. She wanted it to finish as soon as possible.

And there was only one way to finish this.

Wandering once again inside the school halls, this time walking towards the restrooms.

The school was empty. All the cheerful students run to their homes, to their families that loved them. Run back to a house where they would find love, care. She had nowhere to run to.

The restrooms were faintly lighted, the atmosphere was cold.

Her reflection at the mirror was disgusting. She hated the thing she was looking at. And it was his fault. Her father’s fault.

She took the small blade out. The one she took from that room. With that blade she was cut countless times by her abuser. Why did he do it? Just for fun.

With this blade this time she was going to be cut once and for all.

A figure of a man entered the women’s rest room.

There he was, with flames inside his eyes.

Those eyes.

She longed them. She wanted someone to understand her.

This is only a game.

And she thought that there was no understanding.

She lifted the silver blade.

His strong eyes now were filled with fear.

I thought I was a butterfly next to your flame.

He was now hugging her. Why was he hugging her? His strong dark eyes were now closed.

Why was he touching her? Why was she crying? What was happening?

A butterfly.

She could see anger on his face.

He was touching her.

Her father was touching her.

She could see her father. Only her father. Her father, Her father, her .

I got burned.

Her father was there, her father was touching her, her father was abusing her.

Her body was numb, her head throbbing in pain.

She turned around and stabbed the knife into the man she hated the most.

A rush of panic and the lock has been .

This is only a game.

He was dead. But it wasn’t her father.

The strong eyes didn’t have their confidence now.

They were empty.

I see my horror mirrored in your blank stare.

“STOP! STOP STARING AT ME! STOP!”

She was crying over him.

Her father was staring at her. TOP was staring at her.

With the blade still inside her arm she run outside.

Everything was dark, the moon was up in the blood red sky.

Tears were filling her eyes.

EAT ME. DRINK ME.

She could hear those voices inside her head.

Her father was abusing her. She was hurt. She was not innocent anymore.

Feeling like a child and looking like a woman.

She was hurryingly walking inside the haunted corridors.

Haunted by voices.

There was blood everywhere.

There was blood on the floor of the restroom.

There was blood on her clothes.

And there was a stain inside her soul.

A stain that couldn’t be cleared.

She walked outside. Dead bodies were lying everywhere, corpses of all those who abused her, who bullied her, who hated her, with eyes wide open, all of them looking blankly at her.

She had killed them all.

I see my horror mirrored in your blank stare.

The yard was dirty, blood, blood everywhere.

She run inside the woods, with her favorite dress on. The one that her mother gave her before she abandoned her.

And she kept running, and running.

She has been forecast with attempt to kill herself…

The stain inside her was as dark as her dress.

The blade was shining under the moonlight, just like her crystal tears.

The voices inside her head were screaming.

EAT ME, DRINK ME.

She wanted it to stop. She wanted to be eaten. To be killed.

EAT ME, DRINK ME.

She wanted someone to drink it, to it all away.

She didn’t know where she was but the place was so familiar, so loved.

She was now relaxed, calmness filled her body as she lifted the blade once again, this time facing her.

Her long, brushed nicely hair was swaying because of the cool breeze.

I thought I was a butterfly next to your flame.

She could feel the whole world trying to force the blade towards her heart.

Bom wanted to be eaten, to be drunk.

EAT ME. DRINK ME.

The blade fell of her hands but she could still feel a pain of being stubbed scissoring her.

TOP was lovingly her neck.

He was wearing his best costume.

She could feel the salty taste of blood filling as her lips formed a smile.

He took out the blade which he has sunk into her flesh from behind.

His flame was burning her slowly, but now she was free just like a butterfly. A butterfly next to his flame.

All the corpses were gone. She was the only one left now.

Her dress was now stained, just like her soul. But she was free.

He kissed her cheek goodnight.

Goodnight.

But the ending didn’t test well.

••••

The school president was announcing the bad news.

A girl found dead inside the schools restroom.

The cause of dead was suicide.

TOP felt the whole world disappearing under his feet.

Surveys were done and they found out that she had only a father who had been abusing her for years.

She was mentally ill.

Park Bom,16