He still remembers the fateful day when his life was forever turned upside down and inside out. The day Kim Minseok had been left here at Sooman’s Garden of Discarded Boys. Almost every single boy that was stuck in the place hated it with a burning passion. Some of them even hated their parents blindly for leaving them there. Others, like Minseok, kept level heads and vowed not to hate their parents until they met them and got explanations for their abandonment. Some of the older boys knew that their parents were more than likely dead in a ditch somewhere. As sad as that realization was, the problem at hand was much more pressing than the issue of locating everyone’s biological parents. The problem with being left here was the low chance of ever being saved. There had been a total of two adoptions since the place opened in the mid-nineties. Most people considered Sooman crazy for keeping the place open, but he always insisted that he couldn’t close his doors and abandon the boys for a second time… not that he actually cared about them. He treated them like slaves. Most of the boys were forced to make constant repairs on different parts of the dilapidated building. Others (the more beautiful ones) were labeled as “Sooman’s Consorts” and were taught etiquette… but they were also taught how to appease Sooman’s horrid ia in whatever way they could to protect the younger boys. What was worse was that each boy was given a number upon his admittance to this horrid place and that was all he was known as until he was either adopted or set free at age eighteen.

Thirteen is what the other boys call him. He can’t even remember what his real name is, but he does know that Sooman has it filed away in his office somewhere. Or at least… he hopes the man has something about him. Most boys left here come with notes that explain how horrid the boy is or how it is no longer possible for the boy’s parents to take care of him. Every note has the victim’s name on it. But there is no guarantee that he was left with a note to begin with. He remembers the newest addition to the building, Thirty, and how he was just a tiny infant that showed up in the cliché basket on the doorstep. He had no note on his basket. That is the one detail that stood out to Thirteen as he had picked up the little bundle of wailing baby and taken him directly to the nursery before reporting it to Sooman the next morning.

New arrivals were almost as rare as adoptions lately… most every boy there had been there at least since 2010, except for Thirty who came just last year. The date on the makeshift chore calendar reads 1/16/14. Thirteen shudders as he realizes that he’s been put on bathroom duty for the day, but when he rereads the date, a jolt of pain slices through him. This was the day he had been left here… way back in 2008. This is the 6^th anniversary of his imprisonment. And as far as he knows, it is also his 14^th birthday. He doesn’t remember his real birthday anymore. It was forgotten after a rather depressing and disturbing thing had happened on his actual birthday. His best friend, Seven, had fallen from an open window on the third floor and had snapped his neck when he hit the ground just a few feet from where Thirteen had been standing. It wasn’t until the funeral that Thirteen had learned the boy’s original name was Shin Donghee. It was also that day that Thirteen vowed to at least learn his real first name before a fate like Donghee’s could possibly befall him. Death scared him, but what terrified him worse was the idea of dying without knowing who he truly was.

Thirteen remembers each arrival after him. Each one of them has a different story and a different face, but to everyone else they’re nothing but numbers. He never got to meet One. One had been adopted shortly after Two had arrived, much to Sooman’s dismay. One was always Sooman’s favorite. There was a large picture of One in the front room where Sooman used to consult with hopeful adopters. The frame is made of solid oak and is ornately carved with little figures dancing around his beautiful smirking face. Yes, the boy was beautiful even when smirking. No matter what he had ever done, Sooman always managed to forget when he looked into those devious eyes. His real name is carved into a golden nametag that is mounted into the frame at the bottom. Kim Heechul. There is a second framed picture near One’s, only it’s slightly smaller and less ornate. The only other boy that had ever been adopted, Six, has a very blank look on his face in his portrait. His nametag is silver and the wood used in the frame is definitely birch. His name was Jung Yunho and he was adopted well before even Ten arrived here. The names mean nothing to the boys though… all they ever hear Sooman say is how much he misses One and Six and wishes a new One would come to him. Lately his hopes had been high that the new baby Thirty would grow up to be just as beautiful as One or possibly as strong-willed as Six, who had apparently refused to be a Consort. But only time (and puberty) would be able to tell.

“Thirteen! Come on man, we have to get our chores done before lunch or Sooman will kill us!” his friend Nineteen nearly shouts as he shakes Thirteen from his haze of painful memories.

Nineteen had arrived a few weeks before Seven’s death and had managed to befriend both Seven and Thirteen shortly before the incident. He was also the last one to arrive until after Seven had been buried. Twenty through Thirty had no idea what caused Thirteen to be so quiet all the time. They knew he spent most of his life buried in thoughts and painful memories, but some called him a drama king because they believed his pain was caused by exactly the same situation as theirs.

“It’s today, Nineteen…. It’s the 16^th of January… It’s been five years now… And I’ve been here for six…” Thirteen murmurs with tears in his eyes.

Nineteen freezes in his tracks and stops tugging on the other boy’s arm. Instead he wraps his arms tightly around his friend, rubbing the elder’s back as he breaks down and sobs into Nineteen’s shoulder. Some of the other boys poke their heads out of their bedroom doors. The older ones have very sorrowful looks on their faces, but the younger ones just glare at Thirteen for being so weak. They don’t understand and Thirteen intends to keep it that way. He knows in his heart that he’d do anything to protect the other boys from the pain he’s in now. Before either he or Nineteen know what’s happening, Sooman is pulling them apart and barking at them for slacking off, completely ignoring Thirteen’s puffy red eyes as the young boy continues to sob.

 There is a rule against crying here. Crying will get you spanked if Sooman catches you. Punishments always come after chores though. If a boy fails to do his assigned chore for the day he’ll get a spanking. If a boy does not eat all the food on his plate at a meal he’ll get a spanking. Every single rule in the house has that same punishment; spanking. Sooman is notorious for enjoying these punishments a bit too much, especially if the boy being punished had a nice, round to smack. Thirteen has been the unfortunate recipient of this kind of attention all too many times, mainly around this time of the year. He stares up at Sooman with terror plastered across his face as his mind jumps back to the last time he had been punished. Let’s just say the incident was in fact caused by the same broken rule at the same time of last year. Sooman had kept spanking him for more than an hour after curfew and at the very end he had even speculated if he should move Thirteen into his list of Consorts. But eventually he had deemed that Thirteen’s eyes were too small and his cheeks were too chubby for him to ever be beautiful enough to be a Consort. Sooman had made a habit of telling the boys their faults if they weren’t a Consort. He had told Fifteen that he had too stern of a face even though it could be beautiful if the boy would just smile once in a while. Twenty had been rejected because his ears were weird… whatever that meant. Twenty-Three had simply been rejected because his skin was too dark even though the boy was almost as gorgeous as Three. He wasn’t quite as gorgeous as One. No one would ever be as gorgeous as One in Sooman’s eyes.

Sooman’s eyes narrow as Thirteen squirms in place doing anything he can to avoid direct eye contact with the menacing man. Without a word exchanged between the two, Sooman places his hand on the boy’s scalp and squeezes his skull just a little too hard. This was his favorite way to tell the boys that they had misbehaved, especially with boys that had short hair like Thirteen. By the next morning he’d relish in the way the punished boy would waddle around and over the next couple days he would watch as the bruises would start to appear at the hairline where his fingers had branded the boy. He coveted each boy in his own way, even if the boy had faults. He just enjoyed being surrounded by little boys. And he despised anyone who tried to adopt HIS little toys. And that’s exactly what they all were to him; toys. Thirteen would be reminded of this once his day-long mission to clean all the bathrooms was completed. Just to spite him more, Sooman is already planning to check every bathroom as Thirteen finishes to check for any missed spots. For each missed spot he will get a tally and for each tally he will get an extra two spanks.

By the end of the day, Thirteen has been spanked exactly 66 times. One spank for crying in the hallway. One spank for crying while he was cleaning Sooman’s private bathroom. 64 more spanks for the 32 tallies he’d managed to pick up throughout the day.