Ch. (0,6): Running Away in a Circle Path

The thing about depression is… it's like being constantly pulled by gravity, not on earth but toward a particular black hole. Before I get sucked into its nothingness, I spiral around it... going through the same cycle of pain, stress, hate, and a teensy bit of hope before being tortured again in self-hatred.

That was the end of my love at first sight. It didn't even last for three days. Wait— can I even call it 'love at first sight' to begin with?

If I could, I would want to run away somewhere I would't cross paths with him again. But I knew I wouldn't be able to make my mom transfer me to another school! If only I could bury myself somewhere!!!

At the top of my overwhelming dilemma, I found myself on a bridge I don't even recognize. A bridge where fast-running cars overlapped, only a few people were around, and not all the corners and streets had sufficient lighting. This is an excellent place to dump dead bodies if I were a killer. In my case, it seemed perfect to throw my egotistical pathetic life along the harsh flow of waters.

I sat by the slope of the bank. I really wanted to give the world a favor and give the rest of the oxygen to others who has to breathe. But sitting in front of death made me freeze. I couldn't do it. I was so scared. I imagined my body floating in the waters as I disassociated myself from that false imagery. It made me so sad that I couldn't even be there for myself.

It's so complicated. Dying was like Rainier Seo's answers to the Chemistry quiz. It's accessible, but I'd rather suffer and stay breathing than accept it as my answer to all my problems... At least, for now. Meanwhile, like the other cycles in life, I put whatever thought I have again in my chat box with Cig, and ending again with no reply.

Seeing my location in this app was funny. I thought I was so lost I had gotten far away in this city. But I was only four blocks away from our apartment… 'What a good feature,' I thought.

I went home late and hungry. My mom was doing overtime in the law firm again. My dad found new friends with our neighbors, quickly becoming popular in the neighborhood because of his outgoing personality and looks. He was drinking with his new friends in the barbecue restaurant downstairs, which was why he did not cook tonight's dinner. He probably thought, 'My snitch of a son wouldn't eat what I cooked as usual, so why bother?'

But I was so hungry. So I picked up some cup noodles and ate them as is. I did not even bother to boil it because I watched somewhere that uncooked ramen noodles are hard to digest and unhealthy. I don't know when it started, but that was my unique way of self harming. Also, I drunk coffee on top of that. It wasn't as good as the coffee sold in cafe that day, but it was enough to hide my bitterness.

I left the dishes, and purposely did not clean up. I was hoping to piss my parents off, subconsciously I guess. Then, I went to my room and saw the piles of boxes lying around untouched. I knew nothing would happen unless I arranged them myself. I thought I wouldn't be around for long, so I did not bother to unpack. But I don't have that much courage—for now. So, I began fixing my things until I fell asleep.

…

Dad dropped me off as usual, but at soon as he left, I'd turn back and run farther from the school. I skipped class for the first time, so doing it for another day was easier. My technique became more sophisticated in the following days too. I'd wear my school uniform and beg my dad to drop me off a few blocks away from the school. Then, I'd go to a random internet café or manga café nearby wearing casual clothes. It was so fun leveling up in online games and catching up on some of the series I read.

It was all fun until mom went home after her business trip. In the same manner, my three-day vacation on net cafes was over as well. They learned I hadn't been attending school because my homeroom teacher called. Oddly, I couldn't grasp the gravity of what I did until mom and I were in the headmaster's office with my homeroom teacher.

The headmaster turned out to be younger than I imagined. He was about the same age as my mom. Phillip Ki, Ph.D. That's what it says on his desk nameplate. The conversation was short. I apologized and silently listened to lectures summarized as "Why I should take studying seriously." Then they moved on to a more concrete solution, like going to cram school or studying with my honor student classmates.

I sat and just let them talk. But I did not sit there listlessly. It turns out I was terrific when it came to spotting subtle clues. I am very familiar with my mom's perfumes because it became a habit for me to use them too. But my mom's smell since she came from that business trip was something I had never smelled before, yet I could smell the same smell coming across this table. If I had never encountered the same thing before, I'd probably fool myself and think it was just a coincidence.

After the conversation with the homeroom teacher, Dr. Ki casually gave me some advice, "Come to my office if you're having a hard time, Kai-kai."

I tried to keep my cool and bowed, "Yes, headmaster. Then, I'm going back to my class."

I was appalled hearing him say my nickname casually.

He smiled and tapped my head, "You really take after your mom,"

"What are you saying? He's an idiot… I don't know where he got it from," mom commented and said those words lightly. She said I took after dad because I'm a liar. Now, she can't even mention dad in front of this man and say she doesn't know where I got this stupidity from.

"Don't be like that Sofia. You were also this troublesome when we were his age," The headmaster laughed as he made a joke flirtatiously.

I shrugged off the headmaster's hand on my head and briefly said, "I'm late. I'm leaving, sir."

I was worried at first about the other kids, thinking it was embarrassing to show my face after skipping classes for three days. But just like when you wouldn't care about a migraine when you have a raging stomach ulcer, the stares of other people didn't seem to matter to me anymore. I sat on my seat and laid my head over my crossed arms.

And the face I was avoiding all these days was facing me in a mirrored position like mine. Rainier Seo was also lying on the table, his head facing his right side. He was looking directly into my eyes.

"Yo," he mumbled. He stinks of a mixed fragrance of menthol candy and cigarettes.

It was days like these when I wished I had some terrible flu… a really bad flu that could disable my sense of smell.

"Ugh!" I grumped and turned my head the other way around. Of all days, why am I seeing things I didn't want to see?!!!

Now, seeing him makes me want to gouge my eyes out too.