The mother figure sat helplessly on the floor, eyes fixed on the floor, kneeling in front of a Man with a white coat, light coming out of Him. He was staring at her with a look of sympathy, but he had nothing else to do than to worry, because it is already the day. The day they both longed and dreaded for at the same time. The Man let out a deep breath, and spoke softly,

“Are you sure Jikyung? Do you still want your son to go?”

“I have no other choice, God... You know it’s for the best. I don’t want my husband to hurt him,” she replied. The Man smiled sadly at her, “I will give him my blessings on his trip.”

Jikyung’s hands shook as she reached out one of them to the doorknob. As much as she didn’t want her only son to go, he had to. Even though he’ll hate her more than he already did, she could live with that, as long as he’s safe.

“Jimin?” she called out. A groan came out of a sixteen year old teen as he threw a pillow at the door—to be precise, his mother. “Go away,” he spat. His mother threw him a crooked smile. It wasn’t his fault he acted like this. It was hers. “God wants to speak with you,” Jimin groaned again, “what’s with you and Him? Does He need help with His freaking long beard?” but he stood up anyway so his mother kept quiet. He purposely pushed her aside with his shoulder when he passed by her and she almost fell if it wasn’t for the wall she’s standing next to. It’s okay, she thought. He’ll become a better person when he comes back, she smiled at the thought of future Jimin smiling at her.

“What?!” they both expected the sudden burst. God flinched as he continued, “yes, you’ll be dropped off on earth,” Jimin shook his head madly, his eyes wide and alarmed. No, no way. I knew that this old shank that called herself mother is evil but I did not expect this!! “Mind your words, Jimin,” he realized God just read his mind.

“I am an angel!! Angels don’t live on earth!! That’s stupid!!” he took a glance at his mother who stood at the corner while looking down, and he can’t figure out what she was thinking.

“Why are you doing this to me?! I didn’t do anything wrong!!”

 “This is for your own good, Jimin. Your attitudes had gotten worse and if we don’t fix that, you’ll be thrown out of Heaven,” just like your father, God thought.

 “I don't need your help,” he said coldly as he looked back at God. He decided to ignore Jimin.

“You will find a boy named Kim Taehyung,” he stopped, but then added “with the blonde hair” quickly and chuckled. “That boy. He always wants to be introduced like that,” he shook his head. He looked like he was staring at Jimin, but Jimin saw that He wasn’t looking at him; he was looking way further than that, possibly through him.

“ I give you 23 earth years. That means, 2 years from here,” Jimin’s eyes widened. “No. Father told me not to like humans,” 

“You don’t understand—“

“Yes I do!!! He was the one who taught me everything!! He taught me that earthlings are idiots because they cry at small things. They are also weak and stupid and childish—“

“Are you sure that everything he taught you were all true?”

“Umm yeah? I mean why would he lie to me?”

God shook his head at the teen’s innocence. “Well then, let’s see if your father speaks the truth or not,” He stared at Jimin’s eyes, “tell Taehyung I said hi,” Jimin’s eyes widened as he screamed, “no!!” but it’s too late. The white room he was in faded away, and he snapped his head towards his mom to plea her to decline this stupid mission but she smiled sadly at him instead and a tear dropped from her eyes. The tear fell to the ground—which is now concrete. He realized by then that he is now on Earth. Why won’t you prove me that you love me? Jimin wanted to cry as his surroundings turned from all white to trees, streets, and people. “This is stupid,” he muttered, and began to walk to a nearby bench. He shooed away the kids that were sitting there and took their place. They’ll come back, he smirked and closed his eyes. Just in about 5 minutes. Without his presence of mind, he dozed off to a slumber.

 Jimin opened his eyes as he felt something hit his face, over and over. They were small pieces of paper, and he tried to find the culprit, only to find no one. He gave up and decided to sleep again. Pieces of paper came back and hit his face, over and over. His blood boiled and he quickly sat up, only to find the face that he had not seen for a long time. His breath hitched and tried to form words but he can’t—his mind was all blank. The figure laughed—more like snorted—and dashed away from Jimin.

“H-hey, wait!!” he chased through the alley. His heartbeat increased, thinking that they could finally meet and talk to each other. But why is he running away? Jimin feared that God was right—that he had lied to him and abandoned him. But he kept his faith on him,  the only person  he cares about.

“Father!! Wait!!” his breathing was hard and his face reddened because of the energy he had to waste. Finally, with the call, his father stopped in his tracks and turned around to face Jimin.

“Son, you have grown weaker. Stayed too long with the so called God, eh?” the man sneered. “It was never good with him,” Jimin wanted to reach out for his dad so badly, to hug him, to tell him he loves him, but he was taught to never do that, for only it will make him weaker than he already is. “Ah, and what brings you here? I thought I told you not to go to Earth? What happened to ‘yes, Father, earthlings are dumb’, ‘yes, father, I will never set my foot on Earth even once’?” the man high-pitched his own voice, mocking Jimin.

“Well, I was forced to come here,” Jimin replied.

“By who?” Jimin looked at him in the eyes, and that gave the man enough to understand. He nodded mockingly and laughed, “and you didn’t fight for yourself?” Jimin was at lost for words. “Father, I—“ a huge pain was on his stomach and he screamed. “You see what they did to you, Jimin?” he kicked him again, this time on Jimin’s shin, and the poor boy fell to his knees, his eyes started to fill up with salty liquid. “Father please—“

“Shut up.” The older of the two punched Jimin right on the jaw, making his body completely on the ground. Jimin’s father sighed and put his hands inside the pockets of his coat. “If only you stayed with me for the past 16 years, you’d be way stronger than this,” the pitiful and symphatical tone of his father’s words hurt Jimin, but the poor gullible boy thought, don’t worry. He’s helping you to be strong, Jimin, inside his throbbing head. “Fa-father,” he tried, whimpering. No answer, but he continued, “help me.” The cackle from his father echoed through the night. Jimin realized he had overslept for a long time until daylight faded. “You want help?” he laughed hysterically, scaring Jimin as he tried to get up on his knees. His father snapped his head at him and he stared back, frightened. “Then you make that Kim Taehyung boy’s life miserable,” Jimin’s eyes widened and his mouth agape. “How did you—“ but he was cut off again as the man high-kicked his face, hard, and he fell to the floor again. “How did I know, you ask?” he snickered. “Because. I. Have. A. Brain. And. I. Use. It. Wisely,” his words were sharp cold, and he kicked Jimin with every one of it. Jimin cried and whimpered, telling the man to stop, but he didn’t listen. To make him stronger is an excuse Jimin had put in his mindset. After for about 20 kicks and punches, the man stopped and Jimin almost thanked God for hearing his prayers. Almost.

The boy can’t move. He didn’t have the energy to do so. Blood is everywhere, and he’s sweating and breathing hard. The man tsked at him. “Stupid. Weak. Like a human,” Jimin couldn’t believe he said that. Tears were formed at the corner of his eyes.

“If you fail again,” the man was referring to his request before. “I won’t even come to you to give a lesson like this again anymore,” he turned away. “You are wasting my time,” and he left. Jimin can’t even hold it anymore. As soon as his father left, he vomitted blood and tears were coming out of his eyes. He sobbed miserably, filling up the silence of the night. He didn’t care if anyone heard him. For now, all he cares is to realize how much it hurt to love someone. If he loves me, why is he doing this? He really didn’t know who to trust right now. His mother sent him to a place he hates, his father punching, hitting, mocking the hell out of him. Is this what they call love? His heart felt like it was on fire. Father, I know you love me. I know you are trying to tell me that being weak is not good, but... he cried at his thoughts, why this?! He wanted to kill himself. To drown himself to the pits of water. Or blood. He didn’t care. He still hadn’t move, not that he could. The pain was consuming him more. His head kept throbbing. Slowly he closed his eyes.

A voice he’s not familiar with.

Then nothing.

 

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A fourteen-year-old boy was on his way home from the convenient store. His ears were stuffed with earphones, and he walked, following the song that filled his teenage ears. He danced as if the ground he was standing on’s a stage.

Look here, don’t run away
Look here, don’t run away
Look here, don’t run away
Because soon, you’ll want me

 He took his own snapback from his head and spun it around on his right forefinger, then tossed it over his left hand, and he positioned it to his back, tossed the snapback over his shoulder, back to his right hand, then put it on his right shoulder, slid it to the left, passing the back of his neck, then his left arm, then his left hand, then he put it back on his head and made a pose, feeling like one of those superstars on tv. He laughed to himself and his ridiculous act and walked again.

He was whistling to distract himself from the cold dark night (his varsity not doing a really good job at it) and did more dancing. After some minutes, he was almost there to his apartment but as he turned to an alley, he found a body lying helplessly on the ground. Shocked, he ran towards it. It was a boy, and he saw blood everywhere. He dropped his grocery bags to his side and kneeled before the boy. When he realized the boy was still breathing, he let out a sigh of relief, but that didn’t stop the teen from the panic inside of him. The fourteen-year-old turned his head to the right, then left, and it seems like there’s no sign of another person that would come at him to help this boy. He shook his head, unsure of what he’s about to do, but he tried it anyways. With his muscular, trained arms, he lifted the boy up and steadied him on his back. He wobbled but regained his balance. When he was about to walk, he noticed his grocery bag was still on the ground. “ it,” he cursed, and crouched down to take the bag but failed miserably. The weight on his back was too heavy for him he accidently lost his grip on the dying boy and he fell, a loud thump could be heard by the fourteen-year-old’s ears that’s blasted with music. Ouch. He flinched. That gotta hurt. He picked up the unmoving boy again(right after he picked up the ing annoying grocery bag) and wobbled his way to his apartment.