Eighteen’s Bed

Still, the noble Catholic spirit of Yeongseong took a step back. In the end, he had to move away, out of the district. He did say some harsh words during Christmas when he got pretty heated, but looking back now, it was nothing more than a rash outburst, and I don’t even want to think about it again.

That day, Gorosa, with a pale face, said something to me.

“You sociopath bastard. No one in this world will ever like someone like you, and you’ll never experience loving someone in your lifetime. You’ll live like that forever.”

Sociopath, huh? What’s with this middle school kid daydreaming?

Well, yeah, that's true. What did I do wrong? It was that bastard who insulted me first, and I was just acting in self-defense. Why should I get scolded for it?

Ah, there is one reason. Jo Jaeuk's parents love him so much that they stayed in their original place, while my parents hate me, so they never cared about my pride. I get it now, how obvious it was.

Then how did I last three years in this inescapable garbage heap? While I was thinking, early summer was approaching.

****

No, maybe hitting Jo Jaeuk was the right thing to do.

It was like someone had turned off the power. The accident stopped. The broken radio repeated just one word. My throat felt as if it was burning with heat. A voice, still stuck inside, boiled inside my throat.

I saw a white bird. A heron, walking along the sewer with long legs, craned its neck. I noticed a strange white bird staring at me. Its light brown eyes clearly reflected my figure. Just as I focused to get a better look, everything around me turned black and white.

“……”

I’m sure that bastard said something while looking at me.

That kid alone was shining in a brilliant white. He turned his head and whispered something to his friend, and then the world stopped.

The conditions for a miracle were special. The slightly bent white neck from looking down at the highly damaged dish, the blue veins faintly visible on the hand, the sharp nose, the thick double eyelid that appeared and disappeared with every blink, the full lips protruding out, the uniform buttoned all the way up, and the unusually prominent ankle bone—all of these had to be there for such a miracle to happen.

Seventeen, about to welcome early summer. Soon the evergreen trees would bloom, and in the cafeteria, white snow fell.

I still clearly remember it. The kid, looking dissatisfied with the dish in his hand, constantly frowned, then put the spoon back in the utensil holder. And still frowning, he picked the spoon from the innermost place and placed it on his meal tray. He seemed satisfied and kept glancing around, even standing on tiptoe.

“……”

In my nervousness, I dropped the meal tray, but I didn’t even hear the noise. I fumbled around for my hands. I had to find out who that kid was. As soon as I grabbed a firm body, I hurriedly asked without knowing whose it was.

“Who’s that?”

“What?”