He had never cried that much. Everything hurt. Not just the way he would move his shoulder but also the way the memories flood his soul. He could bear his back aching muscles but not the voices he could still vividly hear. Those voices echoing like a puppet on a string. It was quiet yet loud. Loud enough to keep him sleepless.  Loud enough to torment his remaining sanity. 

He had never felt that kind of pain. No morphine could stop the guilt ripping through his soul. He was scared. No, he was mortified. Disgusted  even.

Flashes of everything would come to him taking him away unto an oblivion that he wished existed. How he hoped that every thought, every disturbing thought that he had would go away. But no. He would wake up every day with the same pain. The same haunting memories. The same faces. Even when he slept, he would see them. In his sleep they were still alive but not for very long. And so he would stare into nothingness. Tapping his thumb obliviously like it was something that he needed to do. Something to keep him alive. He would never know. And no one knew why. He would never tell. He would never tell what happened that day.

It was a misty morning. The morning when a stranger found him limping, begging to be taken away on a deserted road. Eyes red, lips dry, clothes torn. It was as if he escaped from hell and maybe he did. Some tried to ask him but he would just give them a blank look. As if telling all the strangers that they would never understand. They never would. And so time dulled the every breath he continued to take. But the pain, the memories...it lingered.

He was standing at the edge, stripped soul, unwanted feelings. The sky was not on his side. He thought it never was. Time was never his friend too. It was just a constant reminder that he was losing. That he could never have it. But what did he want? He didn’t know. It could be a rainbow in a desert or a cup of cafe latte. He would never know.

He would never know because he would never try. He was afraid of falling into an abyss. Afraid to fall into oblivion. Scared to face reality. He was made up of bubbles. Easily made and easily vanished.

And as the edge was calling, he slowly backed out. When he would be ready, he would risk it. But when?

~~~~~~

"Lee Seunghoon?"

He looked up never uttering a word. He was stoic like the statue in a museum you would pass by but never spare a glance at. The nurse sighed as the man named Lee Seunghoon stood by the window again, tapping his thumb. Sometimes the tapping would stop. Almost like an order. And then it would begin again. He would sometime tap so hard that he would end up with a bruise. But sometimes, it was so soft as if it wasn't even tapping. It would be more of a caress. But there were just days where he would even bleed.

He had been a very peculiar patient, never uttered a single word ever since he had been admitted a month ago. His family had found him but it was like he had never known them at all. His mother had cried and crushed him with a hug but he had just stood there. It was as if he could no longer feel an ounce of sympathy at all. They had tried reaching out but he would just stare into something and never respond. The doctors said he had a very traumatic experience. An experience that involved four dead bodies in an abandoned warehouse.

The hospital was flocked with media wanting to catch a glimpse of the kid. Psychologists came and went. The fiasco went on for weeks but they decided to give up. They tried every technique there was. Urging him to talk but the efforts were gone to waste. Some called him a victim, a survivor. A broken soul who had gone through hell but had managed to fight back. But to cruel people he was dubbed as the murderer. A silent killer. But no one really knew the truth because he never said anything. Just like that day.

"You're sister is here to see you. She's waiting in the garden'" the nurse's voice sounded like a whisper in his hollow room. The room was painted like any other room in their facility, white and dull, but his room seemed more eerie, haunting. Maybe it was the way every single thing was almost untouched. Same for the bed and the chair by the window. But the most haunting part of the room was Lee Seunghoon himself. He never broke any rule. He never even tried to kill himself. He was always calm. So calm that being with him was like a torture. He was obedient too. He took all his medicines on time. He even helped tidy up the garden when asked too. But he was also desolate, alone and expressionless.

And just like every other day, he stoically stood up and started his way to the garden. The nurse released the breath that she had been holding. Almost everyone in the facility felt that way around that peculiar kid. At least the other patients in the facility could be defined as crazy. But Lee Seunghoon was something else.

She glided across his room to check for anything about the kid. Maybe a glimpse of what he was. But there was nothing that would say anything about him. The room was immaculately clean. But she found a sloppy note by the window pane. Perhaps written by something sharp. She tried to make out the words but she couldn't. It was carved numerous times that the words meshed deeming it unrecognizable. She left the room but turned back looking at the carved note. It could never be understood at all.

Seungyoonminotaehyunjinwoo

I killed you right?

Mianhe

~~~~~~~~~~~

Lee Seunghoon silently walked out to the garden where his sister was waiting. He knew she was for sure. Her name was Hayi and she was preparing for the university. He was also aware that she was the only one who never stopped visiting him. His parents gave up on the second week. He saw how his mother cried and begged him to speak, but it was as if he had become heartless. He was not summoned for psychiatric meetings anymore too. No more strangers were offering him a cup of coffee. It was like they got tired of him and he got tired too. Tired of everything.

He followed the trail just like anybody else, never minding the look thrown in his way, some given by doctors and nurses curious as ever, some by patients. People judged him crazy and he was having the same judgment. Maybe he was crazy.

He felt a breath. It was hollow and short. He would hear it every day. He stopped on his tracks and took a deep breath. He tapped his right thumb in the air.

It will go away. It will go away. It will go way. He kept on chanting. Waiting for the breath to go away like it would every day.

"Oppa!"

As if on instinct, he turned around. He saw a smiling girl looking toward his direction. She was in her jeans and a t-shirt he had seen multiple times back in the days when everything was normal. She then gave him a crushing hug but he did not respond at all. The girl pouted but immediately changed into a cheery expression as she held onto his arms and dragged him to the garden situated a little away from everyone else. The facility was situated in the middle of a meadow. Perhaps to feel tranquility and peace. But all he could hear were the distant whispers and the cruelty of silence.

She let Seunghoon settle on one of the chairs and started blabbering about her day. How she practically aced her physics. Or how the ajhumma from across the hall moved to Mexico because her son had found her. She also set up the table not giving up on her stories. She brought watermelon that day. Neatly sliced and cooled. Her brother's favorite. But he was not even looking at her nor was he listening. She sighed and sat down just beside her brother. She also handed him a watermelon and he obediently received the fruit. His sister stared at him. He was not the same person anymore. He was supposed to be bright, sweet, full of life. He was supposed to be the boy who would smile at the littlest things. But there were no traces of that Lee Seunghoon. All that could be seen was an emotionless human. He was now surrounded by an aura that could not be defined by the eye. He did not even flinch. He started tapping his thumb again. She was always seeing him like that but she could never get used to it. She even wished that her brother would snap, get angry and throw things in the air because that would be the normal thing to do. Just Anything. Anything that would show emotions. But it was like he was too busy in his own world.

"Mino..." Seunghoon suddenly uttered. She flinched. Her brother spoke for the first time in a month. She took a deep breath, contemplating if she should call the doctor or not. She stared at her brother again. He wasn't looking at her. He was not looking at anything at all.

"Mino was smoking that night."

  ---------

March 2013

The room was in a clutter. His laundry was not done yet. He could even see the crumpled papers with lyrics that were never finished. He squinted his eyes because of the mess. He had been at the studio all night practicing a routine that they could use for the monthly evaluation. He was exhausted and it wasn't an ordinary day either. They had just received what was supposed to be good news. He was tired and he did not plan on cleaning anytime soon. He would do it the day after, he promised.

He took a refreshing bath but the unidentified feeling in his gut didn’t go away. Not even dancing would make it go away. He sighed and plopped his way to bed, the only place saved from the clutter he did not even remember doing. He was about to close his eyes when a strong smell came to him. He scrunched his nose. The smell could not be mistaken. He sighed as he stood up and made his way to the dorm's balcony. His room was the nearest to it so it took him short but hasty steps to reach it. He sighed once more as he saw Mino leaning against the bars. The younger looked forlorn and perturbed.

"Since when did you start smoking again?" He asked as he plopped himself down on the opposite side of their small balcony.

"Has it ever occurred to you that I never really stopped?" He asked back as he puffed the toxic again, his baritone voice emanating mischief and something more. Seunghoon could only shake his head. He was too tired to even argue.

"Where are the others?" He asked the still smoking Mino. He grimaced as his eyes shifted on the floor. There were about 5 burned sticks already and from what he could see, the younger had no plans to stop anytime soon. "Do you not have the audacity to stop in front of me?" He snapped anyway. The younger just raised his brow but continued puffing his way to the stick.

"I do not know where the others a