"ouch!" you exclaimed in intrigue, yelled.
"you should bow when someone crosses your path!" she scolded you, shaking her head on disappoinment.
you simply shrugged it off and invited her to head home, now massaging your sore waist where she pinched.
days passed quickly, and you found yourself adjusting easily to life there, like there was life in the country you once lived in. your days were filled with harvesting tomatoes, watering flowers, checking the conditions of fruits, soil seeding, and so much more.
as for you and sunghoon, somehow, you both managed to get along together. over time, you learned that he wasn’t actually a resident of your town. instead, he rented an apartment nearby and only visited occasionally. as it may seems though.
well, your thoughts and first impressions of him as a good guy, a decent man? they couldn’t have been more wrong. you haven't yet realize it by now, but he was far from that description, far from anything even remotely decent.
on his own, sunghoon had a habit of smoking cigarettes anywhere, anytime he pleases. he couldn't care less if he smoked and blew it in someone’s face, even if they had asthma or a heart condition. on most rare midnights, he would wait outside where drug dealers mostly hung out to buy one whenever he felt like needling one. and that story he told you about renting an apartment nearby? lies. fucking lies. he made it all up, every word, just to get close to you. to be fair, the house he told "rented apartment" in was inherited from his late parents. well, you wouldn't want to know how and why they ended up like that, right? of course, you would. they were killed by their very own son one night during a bloody rampage when he came home after trying cocaine for the first time. he was holding a pocket knife, crazily laughing as he headed to the bedroom his parents shared. and the next day, police founded that his mother was stabbed twenty times in different parts of her body while she was sleeping, and his drunken father, in his drunken state at that time, was stabbe thirty times in his back and five times in his private parts. think it’s horrifying now? well, sum it up a bit. the court had only sent him to an orphanage instead of prison, despite the seriously deadly crime he committed, because they thought he would change over time, and the fact that he was only seventeen at the time. only then did they find out that luck was on his side. just as they were about to imprison him, he proved himself innocent and not guilty on court. even satan couldn’t beat that.
oh, you? clueless soul of a girl, may the Lord have mercy on you. everything he told you about himself was nothing but a twisted creation of his already messed-up mind. whenever you asked him anything, he’d spin another lie without a second thought. really, he was a weirdo. don’t forget, a liar too.
and the reason behind all of it? oh let's say, he wasn’t just lying for fun. he was obsessed with you. re-calling that so-called apartment near your grandmother’s house again moments he told on another day? it was just an excuse, an easy way for him to sneak into your room every single night while you were sound asleep. and trust me, he never missed a night. not even once.
think he's the weirdest piece already? oh no, girl. slap yourself, because he's more than that. he's a fetishistic bastard too. every night, he would sneak into your grandmother's house, climbing his way to the second floor where your room at. once he succeeded, he'd sit beside you on the bed, caressing your cheek and brushing away a few stray strands of hair from your face. you might imagine him smirking smugly in the darkness while doing that, but no, his face was cold, emotionless. he looked mean. really mean. you wouldn't easily guess what was up with him.
all of it, the sneaking, the watching, the touching, wasn’t just impulse. it was planned, planted deep in his mind. he was after you, for something, only bodies could tell. try remembering now the first time he saw you coming his way and asking for his help? of course. he marked that miraculous day that God and heaven gave you to him. willingly. unforcely. him only, like you were created for his to be.
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