Ligne De Vie

Kibum sat in the spacious cell, in front of the glass that separated him from whoever visited. He thought of it as if he was on display for unwanted eyes. He has been here for more then 2 years now going on three and the only person who still visits him was his deathly old grandmother. Who should be here by now, since it was the last time she was coming. Key had told his grandmother to just stay home. She was getting to old to be coming, and he rather not see her. This was a huge lie. But she promise one more visit and she will never come again. He knew this hurt her but it was hurting him to see her in that condition.
The door outside the glass opened and in walked the old woman that had been seeing her grandson in that cell for 2 years, following her was a tall lean man, hair with length to middle of the neck and a notebook in his hands. “Kibummie, how are you? Are they treating you well? Have you eaten? Here…here…” The old woman scurried to the door that was placed there for food and other necessities, sliding in a plate of food. Kibum got up from where he sat and scrabbled to the door retrieving the plate. The man then alleged, “Ma’am I don’t think we’re allowed to give the prisoners things”. The woman turns to him and said, “What they don’t know won’t hurt them. Now come on introduce your self. I have seemed to forget your name.” The man nodded and bowed. “Hello, I am Choi Minho I was hired as a psychologist” The woman looked Minho over. “Ah, so why are you here exactly?” The woman asked with a puzzled expression and her hand kind of flaring about. Minho let out an unknown breath that was held and starts explaining. “Well I was hired to observed Kibum-ssi, and find out why he… harmed others” The woman chuckled. “I do not see why people still use harm when talking about killing others. I know what he did, I know it was wrong. But life is life. I can’t stop loving him just because he did what he did. I have a strong heart and I am way over denying it. So you may use the words and phrases murder, kill, take out, and disposed of. It won’t make me breakdown or anything. So why don’t you people get that?” She said making her way to one of the two chairs in the room. Minho followed suit and sat down beside her apologizing for assuming wrong.
“Kibum-ah how is the chicken? I made it the way you like it.” The woman said leaning forward. Kibum was bent over stuffing his face with rice and chicken. He held up his thumb signaling that it was good and that he liked it. Kibum would have given her an answer if Minho wasn’t in the room. He doesn’t like talking to others beside his grandmother. The last psychologist had a hard time talking to him. He would only talk some days then the next he would just sit in his cell. So he gave up on him, wishing Kibum luck on rotting in a jail cell.
“Bummie, I have to go now. I love you and suspect a call every once in a while.” His grandmother said collecting the plate and ten foils from the door. Kibum just smiled at his grandmother, then waved goodbye as she exited the room. Kibum then turn to Minho then back to the darken area of his cell, simply weighing his options. Should he go to his bed and not talk to him or challenge the man until he got annoyed. He chooses the second one and dragged over a chair from the small desk piled up with magazines and books. Minho noticed the screeched of the chair and looked up at the young man that was now seated behind the glass.
Minho sighed and took out his pen, opening his notebook. “Okay so I know you’ve had about ten people here trying to pry open your mind and dig for the truth. I on the other hand wanted to be here.” He stated never leaving Kibum’s eyes. Kibum scuffed, knowing that was an obvious lie. No one wanted to be here, let alone asked to be here. Kibum shifted a little in his seat propping one of his legs onto the other while leaning over. Staring at the younger man before him, he could tell the man was fresh out of college, and didn’t choose psychology as his first major. He could also tell that he probably changed majors midway threw college seeing that he still doesn’t have confidence when speaking to a patient. Kibum leaned forward tilting his head a bit to the right whilst opening his mouth to speak, “I see you more as a soccer player, you played soccer threw middle school right.” Minho gripped the pencil a bit more before nodding. Kibum smiled seeing this as an opportunity to leak information he now knows. “Choi Minho…” he said slowly before continuing, “Gifted soccer player, adored prince; at least that is what others call you, Prince I’m I right. The seamlessly sculptured body, lean and tight, golden brown hair that once was shoulder length seeing as it looks to be growing back expeditiously. Ones whose sex life was never lifeless, Mr.Choi Minho” Kibum said dragging out his name once again and leaning back. “Before becoming what you are today you wanted to be a professional soccer player. Someone to look up to, praise, pamper. Minho, just to let you know, I hate people like you. People who think they have it all. All you have is money and skanky girls begging at your knees –“ Minho going to interrupt but was silence by Kibum’s hand. “Interrupting me will get you no where – now where was I – oh yeah; you may not be like that now but you have been like that, it still doesn’t change anything though. Though you may be out of High School, your mind set doesn’t change. You still have that cocky-know-it-all attitude and the I-want-to-be-the-best competitiveness. In fact your appearance is the only thing that has changed I bet.” Kibum spat clearly annoyed at this point and wanting the man to just leave. Even though the man had said nothing rude or upsetting it wasn’t much that would set Kibum off, and being around others was one of them.
Minho left the stuffy cell room with a major headache and in need of fresh air. His mind was full of questions about himself and the prisoner that was left sitting reading a worn out magazine. Moving a shaky hand threw his chocolate brown locks while letting out a breath he was unaware of holding. Kim Kibum was different then others he had worked with while training. He was definitely different.