Status: sandeul is my b1a4 love and i definitely want to finish this c:
Dreaming
THE NINTH DREAM
“Listen – I get it. I get it. You might not want my help – and hell, maybe you might think that you don’t even need my help. But I’m here – I’m here, and even if it’s goin’ to be hard… even if it’s going to be really, really hard, I’m here to help you. There are people out there, Miyoung, people that want the best for you. And – and you see, they sent me here to give you that. We know that you’ve been having nightmares. We know that you can’t sleep at night. We know that it’s scary – that it’s overwhelming and frightening. That’s why I’m here.”
The words slip out of his mouth without much thought. He’s done this before – many times before. He’s done it since he was twelve, done it since the day his mother fell into a coma and Jinyoung came to his room, all smiles and promises, telling him to work for him. Telling him that “everything will be alright,” and that he’ll “be able to talk to her again.” And he’s been working towards that – he’s been working towards that prize, that one, golden prize, for nine years now. It’s been nine years and all he dreams about and cries about is being able to talk to his mother again – just once, “just once,” Jinyoung tells him, “and only once.”
And Junghwan’s been working for nine whole years, alone and cold and lost and unable to feel. But tonight, when he looks at Miyoung and sees the look in her eyes, he feels a deep, sharp pain in himself and he can’t bring himself to figure out what it is.
“You’re not alone,” he whispers, so soft that the air between them barely moves. “You’re not alone.”
Miyoung’s still caressing the bones of her wrist, as she fails to take in his words. Help. People. Nightmares. Alone. Alone. Alone. Her mind starts to pound and she closes her eyes tight and presses her hand against her forehead. Fingernails dig into her scalp. It doesn’t stop talking in her head. It doesn’t stop and soon, she just gives in to the easy.
She turns over and folds herself into the blankets.
Junghwan falters. He knows that this is too much for her, and that she needs time, but he can’t help but to feel helpless, helpless, helpless.
He finds out that night that it’s not a very good feeling at all.
The people walk along the sidewalk, chatting animatedly to each other about their day. The streetlights are on and cars go rushing by. It’s a busy street; no one would notice the dark alleyway along the corner shop. That’s what Sunwoo hopes, at least.
But one night, he’s woken up by a large hand grabbing onto his elbows roughly. He tries to fight back, but he’s weak from hunger and worn down by fatigue.
It’s not long before the man takes Sunwoo away.
The words slip out of his mouth without much thought. He’s done this before – many times before. He’s done it since he was twelve, done it since the day his mother fell into a coma and Jinyoung came to his room, all smiles and promises, telling him to work for him. Telling him that “everything will be alright,” and that he’ll “be able to talk to her again.” And he’s been working towards that – he’s been working towards that prize, that one, golden prize, for nine years now. It’s been nine years and all he dreams about and cries about is being able to talk to his mother again – just once, “just once,” Jinyoung tells him, “and only once.”
And Junghwan’s been working for nine whole years, alone and cold and lost and unable to feel. But tonight, when he looks at Miyoung and sees the look in her eyes, he feels a deep, sharp pain in himself and he can’t bring himself to figure out what it is.
“You’re not alone,” he whispers, so soft that the air between them barely moves. “You’re not alone.”
Miyoung’s still caressing the bones of her wrist, as she fails to take in his words. Help. People. Nightmares. Alone. Alone. Alone. Her mind starts to pound and she closes her eyes tight and presses her hand against her forehead. Fingernails dig into her scalp. It doesn’t stop talking in her head. It doesn’t stop and soon, she just gives in to the easy.
She turns over and folds herself into the blankets.
Junghwan falters. He knows that this is too much for her, and that she needs time, but he can’t help but to feel helpless, helpless, helpless.
He finds out that night that it’s not a very good feeling at all.
The people walk along the sidewalk, chatting animatedly to each other about their day. The streetlights are on and cars go rushing by. It’s a busy street; no one would notice the dark alleyway along the corner shop. That’s what Sunwoo hopes, at least.
But one night, he’s woken up by a large hand grabbing onto his elbows roughly. He tries to fight back, but he’s weak from hunger and worn down by fatigue.
It’s not long before the man takes Sunwoo away.
♠ ♠ ♠
Personally, I really love love love this chapter. I still have one more pre-written chapter after this one, so hopefully an update will come in the near future! c: Comments, I think, would really help my writer's block so, if you'd like. c: