When "Hello" Isn't Enough

my friend wanted me to post her story, too, so...
original: http://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/363240


2. I Want Someone to Help


The door slammed loud and the vase I was cleaning slipped out of my hands and shattered into a million pieces. I ran quickly for the broom before he would notice.  

"What the fuck happened here?" he slurred. Shit. I froze and tried to hide my fear from him.  

"I-it was an accident. I-I didn't mean to," I tried to explain.  

"Nothing is an accident. Except for your birth, of course," he laughed. That's only a crumb compared to the giant cake of hurt he's about to serve.  

"Please, Ba... Oppa." He would've killed me if I said his name.   

"Were you about to say my name? You know you're not worthy enough to even think of it!"   

"I'm sorry, Oppa. It won't happen again," I choked.  

"It better not," he growled and slapped me hard across the face. "I'm taking a nap. Be sure to have dinner ready when I wake up."  

As soon as he went to his room, tears exploded out of my eyes. Everyday for the past ten years has been the same. If not, worse. I ran into the bathroom and ripped open the drawer. I dug through the towels until I found my only friend.  

'Hi, Hanuel,' it would say to me.  

"Hello there, Mr. Razor," I replied to the inanimate object.  

'Are you back to feel the sharpness of my edge?'  

"Yes, I am. You know how much I love it," I weakly smiled. I pulled up my sleeve and pressed the cold blade against my already scarred skin. I let it cut my skin before dragging it across my wrist. The blood dripped out of the open wound and into the sink. I smiled at the sight of it.   

When the blood stopped flowing, I rinsed off the razor and my wrist and put a bandage over the cut.   I slowly opened the door and sighed a breath of relief when I heard soft snoring coming from his room.   


I woke up the next morning to a throbbing face. He always hits hard enough so that the pain would last for days. I didn't hear him in the house, so I assumed he went out like he does everyday.  

I haven't left this horrible home since I came here. Only once a week for an hour I get to leave to buy groceries and that's it.  

I sat on the window ledge and watched the kids and teenagers wait for the bus. They're so lucky. They get to leave their house everyday and go to school, somewhere I've never been to. Most people don't like school because of all the work they have to do and the boring lectures. Me, on the other hand, wish for it everyday at 11:11, 12:12 or any other wish-making time possible. I just want someone to notice what pain I have to go through. I want someone to help.  


That night at dinner, silence filled the room. I wasn't allowed to speak unless he spoke to me first. I was waiting for him to say something so I could ask him about school. It took him a while, but he did.  

"I noticed nothing was clean in this fucking house. I work all day and all I ask for is to come home to a clean place!" he scolded.  

"I'm sorry, Oppa. I was preoccupied."  

"Preoccupied? With what? You never leave anyway, so what could you possibly have been doing?"  

"Um... Well, I've been wondering if... If I could go to school," I said slowly. I shut my eyes, preparing for what he might do.  

"Why would you want to go to school? It's not like anyone would like a dirty whore like you."  

"Please, Oppa. I really want to go," I begged. I was shocked that he wasn't trying to hit me for such a stupid question.  

"Okay, if you want to, it's your own funeral," he chuckled. "But just remember, school will destroy you. What I do to you is nothing compared to what they'll do. And once that happens, I'm not pulling you out. You want it, so you'll deal with the consequences that come with it."

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