The Forty-Fourth Tale

Jaebeom stared down into the calm pool of water. The lights were dim and the night was dark. Everyone had left the centre after a long day's work. But he stood there, gazing solemnly at the cold water beside him. 

He bit his lip in frustration, his blood began boiling with rage. It wasn't fair. Why did he have to be punished for the thoughtless acts of someone else?

That foolish act costed him his passion, his career, his dream. Jaebeom glanced down at his plastered arm which hung loosely in a thin sling. He cursed under his breath as he remembered the preposterous ordeal which caused him to be in such an inconvenient situation. No, it was more than inconvenient. It was terrifying. 

The amount of pain that Jaebeom suffered because of the stupid choices of idiotic people. It never made sense.   

Jaebeom had had enough. He wasn't willing to wait in rehab while his fellow athletes continued becoming stronger and greater. 

He irrationally throw his sling off, pulling out a cold groan. He stared down at his cast with hatred. His breath became faster and shorter. 

With an enormous amount of force, Jaebeom threw his arm to the ground until it collided with the cold floor, breaking his cast in two. He screamed from the immense pain and agony before falling to his side, clutching his arm tightly. He closed his eyes forcefully and whimpered softly. A small fragile tear fell from Jaebeom's eye onto the tiles beneath him. 

He slowly opened his eyes. The water was there right in front of him. He stretched out his arm and ignored the awful pain. He dipped his arm into the cold water. 

Jaebeom's lips curled into a small smile.