A Victim's Day
The iron gate screeched harshly as it swung open. Through the dim predawn light, a small figure—looking like a student—peered cautiously outside before stepping out one careful foot at a time. She closed the old gate as gently as possible to muffle its grating friction, but even that faint noise made her flinch. The tiny girl scanned the entrance again.
It's okay... no one's awake.
Leaning on the faint glow of the morning star, she shuffled slowly down the empty alley of the rundown multi-family homes. It was so early even the first bus hadn't started running, and the deserted street felt like a small mercy. She walked at a snail's pace, but when she reached the school gate, it was still locked tight.
Tap tap.
The soft knock seemed too quiet for anyone to hear, but the guard post door swung open familiarly. An elderly security guard let out a small sigh.
"I told you not to come so early, kid."
"S-sorry..."
Tsk tsk. The guard clicked his tongue a few times before unlocking the small side door by the main gate. Only then did the small silhouette hurry toward the classroom. The door creaked open, the lights flickered on, and her form became clear.
She was so small, so fragile, she seemed on the verge of vanishing from the world. Her eyes were pitch black voids, devoid of any spark—sunken in gloom, as if something had crushed and torn her heart to shreds.
Her gaze fixed on the blackboard. Even though the duty student had stayed late to clean it yesterday, cruel words were scrawled there, etched deep enough to carve into her chest:
Disappear! You're filthy. PE teacher loves you. Freak bitch. Can't you smell that gross stench?
With familiar motions, she wiped away the thick chalk marks gouged into the board. But the words etched into her heart wouldn't fade, only weighing down her steps more with each passing moment.
Once the classroom cleaning was done, she finally sat at her desk. The ridiculous phrases scrawled there matched the blackboard's— she'd given up erasing them days ago and brought a cloth to cover it instead. Reaching into the drawer for the cloth...
"Ah!"
She yanked her hand back. Her index finger was slashed deep, blood spurting out red. In her haste, she stuck it in her mouth, swallowing the sob rising in her throat. Back turned to the bloodstained desk, she wandered the empty hallway.
I want to live where no one knows me.
Did I do something so wrong?
Am I really that dirty?
Dad scares me so much... it hurts, that's why I told the counselor...
I liked the PE teacher too...
Is it my fault that happened because I liked him?
I don't want to go home... home is terrifying...
Other teachers hated me for coming early and leaving late, but the PE teacher was the only one who helped... and then...
Was it really my fault?
I said no...
If I just weren't here, everything would be solved...
If I just disappeared...
The bell rang for class, and warmth filled the room as students poured in. Even during roll call, no one questioned the girl's absence. She drifted like a ghost through the school, unseen and unheard, passed by without a glance.
When tears blurred her vision, a warm hand appeared to steady her.
"You... okay?"
"...?"
"Your hand's bleeding."
"......"
"It's still pouring out... shouldn't you stop it?"
Was her heart in too much pain? Blood kept flowing from the cut, but she felt nothing.
"Here... all I have is this big Band-Aid right now."
Clumsy hands wrapped her cold fingers in warmth. A sharp ache bloomed in her chest alongside the unfamiliar sensation of another's body heat, stirring a strange flutter after so long.
Misreading her reaction, he added, "Oh? Sorry if that creeped you out. But the blood wouldn't stop, so I just slapped it on... not sure if I did it right. Shouldn't you go to the nurse?"
Her mouth felt frozen shut; she could only stare at the boy who'd helped her. Her eyes drifted to his name tag.
"P... Park... Kyung-soo?"
"Huh?"
The boy startled at her sudden voice, followed her gaze to his tag, and nodded in understanding.
"Yeah, Kyung-soo. That's me. We live in the same neighborhood, but we've never crossed paths. This is the boys' hallway— you heading to the office?"
"..."
Perplexed by her silence, he scratched his head dramatically, then pulled a candy from his pocket and placed it in her palm— as if realizing his words made no sense.
The candy, sticky from his warmth, seemed intent on thawing her hand with its sweet tackiness.
"Uh... I thought you should eat something. It was from a friend's little sister— forgot about it... uh... it's not old or anything, just melted a bit so the wrapper's tricky. But it's good. Peanut flavor— you allergic?"
"N-no..."
"It's not weird or... y'know..."
Emboldened by his sheepish head-scratching, she found courage in the rare feeling of someone watching over her warmly.
"...Thank you."
Her voice came out clearer than usual, conveying her intent perfectly. That single candy felt like the key to melting her heavy steps. Clutching it tight, she said it again.
"Thank you."
"...Yeah."
Avoiding her eyes unlike before, the boy mumbled a reply and bolted away like he was hiding.
She watched his back for a long time, then— unlike usual— headed home early.
Maybe today will be different.
The sticky candy melted into her heart.
Glancing around the familiar yet strange alley, she pictured the boy's back from earlier, then shook her head hard. At the rusty iron gate, she rubbed her hands nervously before flinging it open.
Screeech.
Something flew at her from inside the moment it opened. She yelped and collapsed on the spot.
"You crazy bitch, where've you been crawling?"
Clang.
A shattered bottle hit the gate, shards scattering around her like a ring of blades. No one to help in this dire moment.
"D-Dad..."
"Don't you dare call me Dad, you slut— my daughter's whoring around?"
"No, that's not—"
"Then why'd that big guy come saying we should settle?"
"That's a lie..."
"Just like your damn mom..."
"No... Mom ran because you hit her."
"You little—?"
Shrinking defensively as always against her drunken father's familiar rage, she was caught off-guard by the glass shards. Fresh blood made her head spin.
Am I... finally free?
But the candy rolling from her pocket shook her resolve.
...I wanted to bring him chocolate as thanks tomorrow...
That was why she'd come home early for once. Hidden in her room was a diary with pocket money her mother had secretly left— never spent, since she always left school late and slipped out early. Guilt-stricken, her mom had left it untouched even after vanishing.
Mom's favorite candy... I've never gotten one from anyone before...
She stretched her bloodied arm desperately for the fallen candy. Her father, mid-rampage, snapped to at the red-splattered yard and metallic blood scent. Grabbing a winter coat from the room, he rushed out, ignoring her crimson, flower-like form.
With fading vision, she struggled to her feet. One will remained.
Chocolate... gotta buy some...
Unaware she had no money, she staggered into the darkening alley, bloodied and swaying.
The sunset streets glowed red, hiding her wounds.
· · · · ·
Wee-oo wee-oo.
An ambulance found her, rushing her to the hospital. Treatment barely done, chaos erupted as police confronted the doctor. She blacked out.
"You can't just barge in like this. This is the ER."
"I heard Ki In-ha was admitted."
"That girl? She just finished treatment... What's this about?"
"Emergency arrest."
"What? For what? She can barely stand— no idea where she's hurt from, but she's in bad shape."
"Murder."
"Murder? What nonsense is this?"
"You interfering with official duties?"
"Interfering? Do it properly first. She's been exposed to long-term abuse— can't even stand. And you say murder?"
"Depends on when the assault happened. Securing the suspect first."