I was running for a while before I realized how dark it had gotten. I looked around. The streets were still busy with people going out for dinner, running errands, and hanging out with their friends. Normal people doing normal things. Meanwhile my life was coming apart at the seams and my mother's crumbling like the first bite of a stale cookie. Her son had been hurting himself because of her. Suddenly I remembered my responsibility for Sungjong's sadness. The guilt continued to eat me alive. She couldn't possibly live with that guilt. I had single handedly ruined her life, making sure that she felt as worthless as possible. I had created a never ending cycle of guilt that would haunt me for the rest of my life. I decided to stop running and sit at a bus stop where a few others were waiting. After a few minutes, a bus arrived and a few people got off. I don't know what possessed me to get on a bus going in the opposite direction, but I had the perfect amount of change in my pocket. I figured that it must have been some sort of sign. 

I sat next to an empty seat in the very front of the bus, unable to tolerate the happy faces that sat in the back. I focused my attention out the window to the night sky. I had finally run away. Something I always wanted to do, but had no reason for. What was the point in running from an empty house? I bit my lip, trying to determine what exactly I had run from. I wasn't running from my mother. I wasn't running from Sungyeol. I was running from guilt. From judgment. From shame. I looked down at the scars on my arm. Why didn't I ever cover them up? Most of the time I'd just wear loose, long sleeves and hope that no one noticed my pain. But if I really didn't want anyone to see it, then I should have bandaged them up like I did with the wound on my hand, or cut someplace more hidden and private, like Sungjong did. By allowing them to be visible, I was inviting people to see them, to help me. At that moment it dawned on me. I wasn't running from guilt or shame. I was running from the help I was so desperately crying out for in the past few years. God I'm stupid. She's my mother. Of course it would hurt her to see. Of course she would feel guilty. But no matter what she would help me. This was the push she needed to finally understand my pain.

I had to get off the bus. I had to get home. I had to get help. But where was I? This place was so unfamiliar to me. I had gotten on a random bus, completely disregarding my intended destination. I was originally headed for the rooftop. The place where I had brought Sungyeol after we met. I knew that would be the first place he would look. But this bus was bringing me some place else. Suddenly, a familiar beat up house on the left caught my attention. I asked the bus driver to let me off and walked carefully up the cement steps. There was no doorbell, so I just knocked shyly, hoping I remembered the house correctly.

"I got it!" I heard the familiar voice yell from the inside. "Who is it?" He asked before opening the door.

"Sungjong?" I asked uncertainly. The door flew open and, sure enough, the skinny boy lay on the other side. His initial shock transformed into concern as he looked at my disheveled face.

"Myunsoo," he said stepping out to join me on the small porch, "are you okay?" I shook my head slightly. A few tears fell from my eyes without warning. I sniffed. 

"Can I use your phone?" I asked timidly. He nodded and hugged me, rubbing my back a little. He took my hand and led me into the house. It was just as beat up on the inside as it was on the out. Old furniture, stained carpets, barely any electronics, the house was ancient. He took me to the kitchen where there was an old phone with a curly wire was attached to the wall.

"Use it for as long as you like, I just have to finish something. I'll be right back. 10 minutes tops. I promise." I scoffed at his promise. It was always 10 minutes with him. My shaky fingers dialed the number that had been engrained in my head since childhood. She answered immediately, barely leaving the phone a chance to ring.

"Soo?!?" A worried mother was on the other side. I took a shaky breath.

"Can you pick me up?"

"Where are you?!"

"I'm... I think I'm downtown."

"WHAT?! At this hour?!" She sighed, as if burdened by the trip. "What is the exact address?"

"I don't know. I'm at Sungjong's house. Sungyeol probably knows where it is." I heard her speak to someone in the background. It was Sungyeol.

"Alright sweetie, I'm on my way." She sighed again. "Don't. Move."

I hung up the phone and slid down the wall it was attached to. I held my head in my hands and sobbed. I don't know why, but I did. The 10 minutes waiting for Sungjong to come back were arguably the longest 10 minutes of my life. My brain was a bowl of alphabet soup, letters and question marks floated around and it took way too much energy to make complete sentences. I felt tired and worn and I didn't even know why. I wanted that day to rewind. Then maybe I wouldn't have gotten out of bed.

After what seemed like years, Sungjong ran back into the kitchen and helped me to my feet. "Don't even tell me what happened," he said to me, "there's a car out front for you. You're mother's here and she's bringing you home." I gripped his wrist as he led me out the door and down the cement stairs. "I can't come with you, hyung. It'll be fine. Just call me when you need me." I got in the car and tried to take deep breaths. Hyung, I realized. He called me hyung. A smile came to my lips as I remembered how much I hated him before today.

"When we go in, go straight to bed. We'll talk this out in the morning." My mother’s voice interrupted my thoughts.

"I can't sleep."

"You haven't tried."

"I won't sleep."

"Why not?"

"I want you to talk to me." I looked at her eyes, which were forcefully focused on the road ahead. "Please?" She stopped the car suddenly, making my body lean forward in my seat. She hurriedly pulled over to the curb and stopped the car. It was dark. I could barely see her face, but that didn't matter. All I needed were her words.

"I love you more than anything. I work to get money, not for me, but for you. To buy you things, to keep a roof over your head, to put you through college. I could care less about where I end up. All I want to see is you leading a stable, happy life." She paused to let me speak. I decided to speak without thinking to maintain the fluidity of our conversation.

"I know you do. And I'm sure you've never heard a thank you from me. I am thankful. I have a good, stable life. You've accomplished that much. The thing is..." I my lips and mustered my courage. "I'm not happy. When you leave, it makes me feel like you leave because I mean nothing to you. Because I'm worthless. I know that's not true, but that's what I feel. I'm confused. I'm so confused. Every hour of every day I'm confused as to when, why, how you could leave me. How could you leave you're only son for so long?"

She took a deep breath in. "I hate it. The only reason I can is because after a while things got so out of control and I knew you'd start to hate me. I knew you wouldn't want to see me anymore. If I were you I would hate me so much." She nodded, as if accepting the fact. "I probably hate myself more than you ever could." She wiped away her tears and sniffed.

"Why do you always do that?" I asked curiously.

"What?" She looked at me questioningly.

"Wipe away your tears before they even fall from your eyes. Before I saw you force your tears away. At first I admired it, you strength. But now I don’t think it is strength. You're just making it worse for yourself, I think." She closed her eyes and let a few tears fall.

"My son," she said, smiling faintly, "my son is so wise already." Wise? I wasn't trying to be wise at all.

"I was just trying to help..." I mumbled. She giggled. The car was silent for a while and I took her hand in mine. "Mom," I said, looking directly in her crystal grey eyes, "I never hated you. Never. And I never will. It's just not possible. I only miss you. I love you, but it's hard for me to say after we've become such strangers. Our conversations are so strained, and our notes only scrape the surface of anything. All I want is time. That's it." She smiled again and hugged me.

"I'll try, Myung," she whispered in my ear, "I really will." This all seemed so surreal. Things are actually changing. She's actually listening. I took a deep breath and broke away from her hug. I looked in the backseat hopefully, half expecting Sungyeol to be there. I knew he wouldn't be, but I really wanted to be wrong. My heart sunk.

"Where's Sungyeol?" I asked.

"He went home." My jaw dropped. Without a goodbye? Without looking for me?

"Why?" I asked, trying to act nonchalant. She shrugged. I grunted frustratedly. "What did he say?" I asked seriously. She started the car up again and continued driving home.

"He was bringing me somewhere in the middle of the city, saying that you'd be there for sure. But then you called saying you were with Sungjong. After telling me the adress, he said he wasn't feeling well and took a bus home." Wasn't feeling well? What did that mean? If he was worried about me then he would have stayed, right? Or maybe he really was sick. Should I be worried about him? I planned on calling him immediately when we got home. As we pulled into the driveway, my phone rang. Expecting it to be him, I answered immediately.

"Hyung? Where'd you go?" I asked. "You should have just waited; I could have taken you home." I said without giving him time to respond.

"Uh..... L?" It wasn't Sungyeol. It was another familiar voice. It was Woohyun. "I don't know what you're talking about, but can I crash at your place tonight?" It took me a second to answer, considering I had just found out who I was talking to.

"Uhh, I think that's fine, I just gotta ask my mom." My mother's head snapped towards me curiously.

"You're mom? She's home? Since when..?" The line was silent for a while as I calculated an answer. I wanted to tell Woohyun what had happened, but my mother was still listening to the call. What could I say that's generic enough to lose her attention?

"Ahhh..." I stalled, "Yeah, for now... but what about you? Why can't you stay at home?" I said, getting out of the car and entering the house. My mother stuck to me like a leech, still listening in on my conversation.

"I'm.... it's..." He was stalling just as I was. He had a nosy neighbor as well. "It's a long story I guess... kind of... I don't know." 

"Oh..." This was one of the most awkward conversations I had ever had with Woohyun. Usually he was all giggles and jokes but something about this was different. He wasn't feeling his best. I could tell. I used the silence to ask my mom if he could sleep over. She gave me a stern look. I pouted cutely and ran my finger down my cheek as if it was a tear. She sighed and nodded, giving into the power of my aegyo. "Hyung," I said, hoping to regain his attention.

"Hmm?" He replied.

"You're all clear. Come over whenever." He sighed in relief. 

"Thanks, man. I don't think you understand how much I needed this. And," He paused for a moment, "and I have something to tell you... once I'm there I mean." He took a shaky breath.

"Is everything okay?" I asked.

"No," he replied, "not really."

[AUTHOR'S NOTE]

Wow this chapter is really short even though I've been working on it for like a week.  I didn;t really know what to name it either.... Well hopefully I'll be able to update again soon! Let me just tell you that this crazy weather is annoying the crap out of me. I live on the east coast of the US and we just got hit by the "Frankenstorm" hurricane Sandy, so I had a week off from school. Suddenly today in the middle of class it starts snowing like crazy and there are like 8 inches of snow on the ground. More school off possibley? ;O idk we'll see I guess. Sorry for ranting and raving. The authors note is probably longer than the chapter itself, but whatever. Hopefully you guys wont hate me too much.

XOXO <3 Thalie

ps. YAY OBAMA WON!~~~~