It never snowed where he lived until the new boy moved in across the streets.

                Jong In watched apprehensively from behind the windowsill as the movers lifted sofas and tables into the house. His brows furrowed as a middle-aged couple in sunglasses stepped out of a sleek, black car and into the house. The furrow deepened as a young man around his age came into view. Like his parents, the boy had donned on dark sunglasses, hiding the top part of his face. In addition to the sunglasses, he was dressed in black slacks and an equally black blazer.

                His heart stopped beating when the new boy turned and looked at his direction. Instinctively, Jong In ducked down to avoid being seen. His fingers tugged on the hem of his striped sweater with enough force to tear it as he began hyperventilating. Damn it, he didn’t like change. And most importantly, he didn’t like people.

                People scared him. They confused him. But his mother said people weren’t the problem, the problem was him. She was right because he had anthropophobia — the fear of interacting with people.

                Jong In didn’t know where the phobia stemmed from; all he knew was that he disliked meeting new people…especially people around his age. In truth, he didn’t want to be antisocial. He really wanted to be like other boys his age — he wanted to go to a public school; he wanted to have friends; he wanted to ride his bike in the open without fearing someone might see him. But in reality, he couldn’t conquer his inner demons and as the years went by, he became more shy and awkward whenever people were around. His anthropophobia was so severe that he had to be homeschooled.

                It was January 5^th today, which meant he would turn eighteen in less than nine days. Jong In chewed on his bottom lip as his anxiety level rose again. He didn’t want to be like this forever; he wanted to change…but how? Should he make friends with the boy next door? Would that help?

                After taking several deep breaths, he peeked out the window again, using the flimsy curtain as a shield. To his relief and disappointment, the boy was no longer outside.

                I’ll try to talk to him tomorrow, Jong In told himself.

                When he woke up the next morning, the snow had piled up against the window frame. After a brief search on the web, he realized the snowstorm had delivered two feet of snow into his neighborhood overnight. To make matters worse, it was still snowing outside.

                Jong In sighed as he watched the snowflakes drifted in front of the windowsill, debating whether he should go over and introduced himself to the new boy or stay quiet and timid. He opted for the latter option when he saw the boy waving at him from the other side. Frightened, Jong In pulled the curtains closed, his heart accelerating to eighty beats per minute. With fingers gripping his hair, he banged his head against the shaded window. Damn it, why couldn’t he just be normal? Why was it so hard to be normal?

                No, he couldn’t let his phobia take over his life. It had destroyed him for the past seventeen years; he didn’t want to continue this style of living anymore.

                Determined, he peeled back the curtain and looked out his window again, his fingers digging into the window stool as the boy smiled back at him. Without the sunglasses, the boy looked much younger than his previous perceived age. With short black hair, rounded eyes and soft lips, the boy reminded Jong In of a life-sized doll. What did he look like in the new boy’s perspective? Jong In tugged on the hem of his shirt awkwardly, hoping he didn’t look too shabby himself.

                He watched as the boy held up a sign that read HELLO. MY NAME IS DO KYUNGSOO. WHAT IS YOUR NAME?

                Jong In bit his lips and looked around for a piece of paper and marker. He disappeared for a few seconds to grab a stack of printer paper and a black marker. With shaky fingers, he wrote MY NAME IS KIM JONG IN. NICE TO MEET YOU, TOO. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he placed the paper over his face and held it there for ten seconds before lowering it.

                When he looked out the window again, Kyungsoo had already written the second note: WANT TO BE FRIENDS?

                Friends? The new boy — Kyungsoo — wanted to be friends with a weirdo like him? That seemed impossible. Was it some sort of joke?

                Grabbing the black marker again, Jong In quickly scribbled his reply: ARE YOU SURE?

                WHY NOT? UNLESS YOU DON’T LIKE ME…

                NO, IT’S NOT THAT. IT’S JUST THAT I…I HAVE ANTHROPOPHOBIA.

                He regretted writing that the moment the marker left the paper. He shouldn’t tell this boy that he had a pathological syndrome. What would the boy think of him now?

                To his surprise, Kyungsoo didn’t mock him or shut his curtains. Instead, the boy wrote back: IT’S OKAY. I STILL WANT TO BE YOUR FRIEND, THOUGH.

                Jong In smiled back. It felt as if a boulder had been lifted off his shoulders. It was nice to hear someone say it was okay even though Jong In knew it wasn’t. In reality, most people just shunned him for being a freak of nature but Kyungsoo seemed to understand.

                And that became their method of communicating. They never left the comfort of their homes, but every day between 2:00 P.M. and 5:00 P.M. they would meet by the windows and write notes via paper or a whiteboard. Jong In learned that Kyungsoo’s favorite food was kimchi mandu and that Kyungsoo planned on going to culinary school after his last semester of high school. He learned that Kyungsoo hated bees and cold weather. Despite the things that Kyungsoo told him, Jong In also took notes on the boy’s behavior. He discovered that Kyungsoo had a habit of raising his eyebrows and widening his eyes for no apparent reason; it was both cute and perplexing.

                This went on for a little more than a week but that all changed one Thursday. For some odd reason Kyungsoo didn’t show up at 2:00 P.M. that day.

                Nor 2:30 P.M.

               When 4:00 P.M. rolled around, Jong In got really worried. Even though he hadn’t known Kyungsoo for too long, he did know that Kyungsoo punctual — Kyungsoo was never late, much less absent. Concerned, Jong In went into his room to grab his coat. It was a bright red coat that he’d only wore twice in the past five years, and they were all times when his parents forced him to go outside.

               He was about to step out the door when he realized what he was doing. His fingers trembled when the palm of his hand contacted the doorknob, the coldness of the metal shocking him back to reality. Was he really going to do this? Could he? Jong In breathed shallowly as he backed away from the door, the pressure around him suddenly ten times heavier. He sunk to the floor as he cradled himself as the pounding in his heart increased. No, he couldn’t go outside; he didn’t want to see people. But what if Kyungsoo was in trouble?

              With his eyes closed, Jong In forced himself to get up once more and opened the door. A chilly gust of January air slapped him across the face as he took his first step out the door. Shivering, he pulled the large hood over his head to shield the top part of his head.

             It was a feat to walk across the streets to where Kyungsoo lived. The remnants of last week’s snowstorm piled high on the sidewalks, making it difficult for Jong In to walk. He stomped on his feet a couple of times to keep his blood hot and running.

             Before pressing the doorbell, he zipped his coat up to its furthest point and pulled the collar over his mouth. He shuffled awkwardly from side to side as he waited for someone to open the door. To his relief and horror, a middle-aged woman in a pink apron opened the door a minute later. 

             “Yes?” she asked as she looked up at his taller frame with the same round eyes as Kyungsoo’s.

             Forgetting how to speak, Jong In pointed at himself and then at the inside of the house.

            She shook her head, “I don’t understand.”

            “I…friend.” He choked as he pointed to himself again and then at the inside of the house, “Son.”

            “You’re a friend of Kyungsoo, aren’t you?” she asked after a few moments, opening the door wider to let him in, “He’s in his room. You can go up there and look for him. It’s the third room to the left on the second floor.”

             Jong In squeaked out a high-pitched “Thank you” before scurrying into the house. The Dos must be pretty rich; they had two grand pianos in the living room and red-carpeted stairs. Ignoring the intricate details of the interior design and furniture of the house, he went to look for Kyungsoo.

             Raising his fist, he knocked at the mahogany door. No one answered.

             “K-Kyungsoo.”

             No answer.

              Maybe the boy was in the bathroom. With that notion in mind, Jong In checked the bathroom near the staircase but it was vacant. Worried, he returned to Kyungsoo’s room again.

              “K-kyungsoo. I-it’s Jong In.” he stuttered, his tongue thick and unused. Jong In couldn’t remember the time he actually spoke more than three syllables at one time. Ever since he learned how to write, he would communicate through inscription since spoken dialogue made him uncomfortable.

               Like the previous time, there was no answer.

               Disconcerted, he made a bold move and turned the knob, entering the room with a cautious eye. The first he noticed was the pristine whiteness of Kyungsoo’s room. Everything looked so pure and white, from the pillows to the curtains to the desk table. The only thing that stood out was the black-bind notebook in the middle of the Kyungsoo’s desk. The oddity of such a dark object in a white room immediately caught Jong In’s attention.

               Impulsively, he made his way to the table. Up close the notebook looked more brown than black. It had a pleather-felt cover. With his fingers on the lower corner of the front cover, he turned it to the first page and began reading. His heart stilled as he skimmed the pages, his eyes zoning in on words like “bully”, “wrist slitting”, “scared”, “unhappy” and “suicide.”

               Without reading some of the middle pages, Jong In skipped to the last written page. Unlike the other pages, the last page was written in pale blue ink, pale like the frosty snow outside.

               01.11.12

               I can’t take it anymore. Nothing seems to work. I don’t know how Jaehing found my new phone number but he called me in the middle of the night yesterday and told me he would find me and hurt me. I’m scared and frustrated. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that Jaehing follows through with his plans. I don’t want to be punched and bullied anymore. I don’t like the feeling of being ostracized by the entire school. I don’t want to be the wangdda anymore. That is the reason why I switched schools and moved to a different neighborhood but I can’t seem to shake off the past no matter where I go.

              I know this might seem rash but I don’t want to live anymore. I’ve thought long and hard about it. I really did. But suicide seems to be my only answer; it's my only escape.

              Mom & Dad, I left this notebook out for you guys. Tomorrow is my 20^th birthday but you won’t see me turn 20. I’m sorry for being such a failure. I know you won’t forgive me for doing this but I love you anyway.

              Good bye and take care.

                                                                                                              Love,

                                                                                                          Do Kyungsoo     

               “No.” Jong In shook his head, his fingers tightened on the notebook until his knuckles whitened.

                Kyungsoo seemed like such a normal boy; he was someone that Jong In looked up to. But underneath all those smiles and faked happiness was a boy with a tortured soul and a tortured past. Kyungsoo wasn’t happy at all; he was depressed, scared, suicidal. In truth, Kyungsoo was an outcast in life like Jong In. They shared so many similarities. Even though Jong In had never been to public school, he could relate to Kyungsoo.

                Jong In flipped through the notebook, looking for a written location. It was stupid to think that Kyungsoo might write down where he planned to die but Jong In had an eerie feeling that Kyungsoo had written it somewhere in the book. After ten minutes of intensive searching, Jong In found it on the second to last page. The letters were so tiny and light-colored that he almost overlooked them. Reaching into the pocket of the coat, Jong In quickly searched up location on his phone. Apparently, it was a park near the lake about fifteen minutes away by foot.

                 Kyungsoo must’ve planned to die in the cold until he was totally buried by the frosty-white snow. He wanted to freeze himself to death so he could numb himself of the pain he was feeling. Jong In knew he couldn’t let that happen.

                 Jong In furrowed his eyebrows as he ran out Kyungsoo’s room, down the stairs, and then out the front door. He hoped he would make it in time; he hoped he wasn’t too late.

                 With the thick layers of snow blocking the streets, Jong In found himself tripping more than three times when he walked too fast. But he got up every time, more determined than ever. Drivers eyed him but he ignored their stares.

                 After what seemed like forever, he finally reached the park. The park was a circular patch of open grassland surrounded by trees on the outer circle. On the northern side lied a small frozen lake. Jong In cursed under his breath when he found Kyungsoo at the edge of the frozen lake — the boy wasn’t even wearing a jacket; he really was trying to kill himself.

                 Although he was tired, Jong In ran to where Kyungsoo was lying. Slipping an arm under the boy’s frozen neck; Jong In pressed Kyungsoo’s body closer to him.

                 The boy looked as if he’d been kissed by the Snow Queen and was frostbitten by the snow and ice. His lips were tinted blue from the cold. Moreover, his skin had lost most of its color; his veins stood out in deep contrast to the paleness of his skin. Jong In reached out to touch Kyungsoo’s cheek, hoping his body heat would warm the boy up.

                 “Kyungsoo, don’t die on me. Please.” Jong In begged, the corners of his eyes teary. He never had a real friend in his entire life; Kyungsoo was his first and only friend and he wanted their friendship to last until the world ends. He didn’t want to lose someone that special.

                 Kyungsoo moaned slightly, his eyelids twitching a little. Jong In thought he would wake up but he never did; the boy stayed cold and unresponsive.

                 “Kyungsoo. Wake up! Please!” Jong In whimpered, pressing his forehead against the older boy, “Don’t do this to me!”

                 He didn’t know how long he'd hugged the boy for; it could’ve been five minutes or five hours but it didn’t matter, Kyungsoo was as still as a corpse. Using his thumb, he brushed the edge of Kyungsoo’s frostbitten lips, tracing the subtle lines that ran horizontally up and down the boy’s lower lip.

                 “What are you doing, Jong In?”

                 Jong In froze, his eyes opening at the sound of Kyungsoo’s soft voice, “Kyungsoo?”

                 “What are you doing, Jong In?” Kyungsoo asked again, his eyes unfocused as he looked at Jong In.

                 “Saving you. I…I read your journal. I know you have problems but suicide is not the answer. There are people that love you; you’re hurting them by hurting yourself.”

                 Kyungsoo turned his head slightly to the side, avoiding Jong In’s eyes, “I can’t deal with the bullying anymore. You don’t know what it’s like to be hated by everyone in school…to be locked in the janitor’s closet for five straight hours…to have clothes, shoes, homework stolen from you…to be hit over and over again until you puke blood.”

                 Jong In had never experienced any of those things but Kyungsoo’s vivid descriptions had him cringing. He could just imagine himself in the boy’s shoes and the thought of being bullied caused him to hyperventilate again, “Well…I…what if I go to school with you? I’ll protect you.”

                 “But you have anthropophobia.”

                 It was true but he didn’t want his phobia to take over his life. His willingness to get out of his house today proved that he could get over his inner demons. Furthermore, he wanted to be by Kyungsoo’s side; he wanted to be the boy’s guardian angel. He didn’t want people hurting Kyungsoo again, “Yes, I do, but I don’t want my phobia controlling my life anymore and I really don’t want people controlling you.”

                 Kyungsoo smiled, his hand reaching out to cup Jong In’s cheek, “Thank you.”

                “Come on, let’s get you home.” Jong In said, helping Kyungsoo up.

                They celebrated their birthdays together on the 13th, exactly one day after Kyungsoo’s actual 20th birthday and a day before Jong In’s actual 18^th birthday. A week later when the first day of the new semester rolled in, they met outside of Kyungsoo’s house before going to school. They knew it wouldn’t be an easy semester since they were both misfits, but they knew it would be a lot easier than making through the school year alone. Whatever happened, they would have each other to lean on.