Here it was, the day of parent-teacher conferences. 

This is the day I dread the most.

My parents are well acquainted in how I do in school, and today's the day they get the most of their information. This time though, I know it will end badly.

I failed my chemistry midterm.

School ended early for the conferences, so I went to a convenience store and sat down in one of the chairs outside, shaking from anxiety, my eyes wide.

I knew all too well my parents would not be happy with this news, so much that I didn't even notice all the people walking by staring. 

Even if I did I wouldn't have cared.

I must have been there for at least an hour, just remaining there, my mind a violent and fearful storm.

Someone clapped me on the shoulder.

Before I could look back at them, they were resting on the chair opposite me.

"Lee Jaehwan, I'm not-"

"Shh!" He pressed his finger to my lips and I scowled. "I'm here for something completely different right now." He grinned.

"What? Why should I care about what you have to say anyway, you know I don't like you..." I looked down at my feet. 

"You don't? Pity, I think you're pretty cool. We could have been friends." His face fell, actually seeming a little heartbroken.

"You.. had something you wanted to say...?" I responded.

"Oh yeah! Well... it can wait for later." He hopped up, his dumb grin returning. "You should head home too, Hakyeon-ah. It's gonna get dark soon." My heart sunk, and I suddenly felt nauseous.

I tried to stand up, yet my stomach turned and I fell to my knees, the world going black for a moment. Jaehwan noticed, and quickly trotted back over.

"You okay?" He pressed his hand comfortingly to my back, and helped me to my feet. I thanked him abruptly and ran off down the street. If I didn't get home soon my punishment would be much worse.

Luckily I caught the bus and got home in minutes, before finally stopping on the front stoop, hesitant.

I turned the knob reluctantly, and slipped inside discreetly, putting away my coat and shoes. If I could get upstairs without them noticing me, I could maybe delay their anger until tomorrow, when maybe it'll be a little better.

"CHA HAKYEON!" My dad bellowed, and I trembled. He's never yelled quite that loudly before.

"Yes d-dad?" 

"What was that test score?! That's not acceptable! You need to do BETTER!" He roared, more angry than I've ever seen him before. It's terrifying.

"I-I'm sorry dad, pl-lease don't get m-mad..." I stuttered, on the edge of tears.

"That's not GOOD ENOUGH! WHAT DO YOU THINK SAYING SORRY WILL DO?!" 

I was crying now, back against the wall. Why, why is he screaming like this? I'm already scared enough!

My mom spoke up. A small part of me hoped she would stop Dad, but I knew she was more upset about this than him.

"This test is gonna show up on your record, so say goodbye to getting into Yonsei, because you failed. You're not getting another chance, this is it. You're such an awful kid that you screwed up something so simple. It's just a test, Hakyeon! You haven't studied at all, have you?" Violently sobbing, I cowered in the corner. I wouldn't dare tell her I studied all week, out of fear they would get worse. 

"Tch. Failure. Get out of my sight." She pushed her stiletto heel into my bare foot and I yelped, scrambling up the stairs.

I slammed my bedroom door shut and threw myself facedown on my bed, just in time for my screams to begin. It's better they didn't hear them.

Why, why, WHY?! How could they just scream at me like that, I'm their son! I just can't live with this.

My limbs bashed at my matress in a barrage of emotions, and I remembered something people kept talking about in middle school.

There was a kid in my middle school, an upperclassman, who commited suicide while I was there. People said he was depressed for a long time and that they kind of expected it.

He killed himself by slitting his wrists, but that wasn't the only time he cut himself. He'd been slicing up his arms for years, sometimes in hopes of dying, sometimes just because.

I pulled out an old pencil sharpener, one I used in elementary school. It had a picture of Chopper from One Piece on it, a character I liked when I was little.

I struggled with the miniature screw for a while, before finally pulling it out with my nails.

I lifted the blade up carefully, turning it over and over in my fingertips, noticing everything, the way it shined in the light, how sharp it still was.

Pressing it carefully to my finger first, just to test it, I braced myself and pulled it.

The pain wasn't much, a small sting and then blood, a tiny bead of red on the tip of my pinky.

I put it to my wrist, more pressure this time, and dragged it straight across, my face screwing up.

This time hurt a lot more, and blood began to rise before I was even done. I layed down the blade and watched as a thin streak of crimson ran slowly down my arm.

I felt better.

"I'll be back" I whispered to Chopper as I slipped the blade back into my desk.

Maybe now I'll get some sleep...