Esoteric - READ DESCRIPTION - IMPORTANT

What I Am

"At one point of someday, everything you did will be exactly what you will be."

What does making useless furniture for a cheap company make me? What does writing songs that no one will ever hear make me? Or never replying to worrisome family, only affording cheap ramen twice a day? How about passing by the homeless men on the streets and never being able spare a single won?

Worthless.

I've always been worthless, I am worthless, and I always will be worthless. My actions define me, a boy who never grew up enough to realize the difference between dreams and reality. And here I am, living up to my hal-abeoji's words. Becoming what I do, what I make; worthless shit.

I wipe my brow. My back is drenched in sweat. My face is burning up. The blazing heat seeps through the weak walls of my workspace, and the curtainless window lets the sun bake my skin as I build. I smack the fan as it's blades flutter, and it jolts back into spin. A bird pecks at the hole near the bottom of the windowsill, where some insects are caught in a spider web. I shoo it away with my worn down work gloves and set down my hammer, taking a short rest. Days are always hot

After that, I continue to work. I've only just started on my third couch framework piece, and it's already one o'clock. The day has been going by slowly and silently, with only the piercing sound of hammers and screwdrivers to fill the void. I can hear the wood processing machines in the far distance, shaving trees of their bark. It's the little sounds that remind me of reality.

It's a sick reality, really. The lower class are stuck working for large companies who pay little per worker. Minimum wage doesn't exist around here, you get a job where you can.

The loud break bell rings, and the hallways become less vacant. Rubber work boots rub against the rough cement floor, as everyone heads to the break room to fill their empty stomachs and rest. But I stay here, thinking. My stomach grumbles, but I couldn't afford my usual ramen today, rent had wiped me clean.

I slide onto the floor and close my eyes. Beads of sweat roll down my forehead and the front of my uniform sticks to my weak chest. I enjoy the quiet as the break room doors shut. Even the woodcutters have shut the machine off to enjoy a sandwich or two. I feel a hot breeze come from the hallway. There are no doors to the workrooms since there are so many. All we receive is a small room, a desk, tools, and a fan passed down from worker to worker.

During my breaks, I just lie on the floor and listen to the wind and trees surrounding the building. It's almost comforting, but I always have to bring myself back to reality. Nothing is perfect, especially not me. But there are things close to perfect. I wish to experience them. These are the thoughts that keep me alive. While other thoughts drag me to dark places, I sometimes have to lie on the ground and think of what I could be. It keeps me going.

The end-break bell rings and I can hear the quickened paces of coworkers. Chattering ceases once they reach their workrooms, and the footsteps fade away as they hurry back to work. The hammering quickly begins again, and I let out a sigh of resentment.

As I'm about to open my eyes I hear pounding footsteps sprinting down the hall. I jolt up and look outside my door, still sitting. It's a girl about my age. The girl covers her face with one arm, coughing into it, and with another is carrying two loaves of bread. Smart until you get caught, I think to myself. As she is about to pass me by, the girl stops suddenly, and I look up at her. She looks at me curiously, still coughing. It takes a while to get used to the sawdust, you'll have to live with it. Pausing for a moment, she takes a loaf of bread from her arms and gives it to me. The curious expression on her face remains as she sprints away, and I stare at the loaf.

Who would care about a worthless man?

I work diligently for the rest of the day, looking at the loaf which I have tucked in the corner secretly. I don't know why the girl gave it to me, especially someone she doesn't know. She obviously needed that bread to help her work. I experienced the same feeling when I first started working at this dump. No matter how much you eat during lunch break, which usually isn't much if you're stuck working here anyway, the work makes you go hungry and tires you out.

I doubt she'll make it here.

Work finally ends, and everyone is dismissed. I scoop up my jacket and the bread. Being the last one out, as usual, I take my key from my pocket I lock the door behind me as I leave. I sit on the entryway steps for a while to take in the breeze. I have a long walk ahead of me. Slipping off my shoes and socks, I begin to walk through the grass. It's the one thing I like about walking home; the grass. The grass here is surprisingly soft and nice to walk through. The sound is nice too. A soft stepping sound.

I look up at the sky and feel the soft breeze on my face. The nights here are cool, unlike the hot afternoons. It calms me after a day of hard work. My mouth is dry, and I can't wait to get home to the fridge. I pull a small water pouch from my jacket pocket and take a sip. There's not much left, but I conserve it for the rest of the way home anyway. The stars are beautiful tonight, I think to myself. I usually don't see them this much out here, but tonight they shine brightly. I smile at them, thanking them for making my walk home peaceful.

Once the grassy area cuts off, I slip my socks and shoes back on and continue walking, still looking up at the sky. The breeze carries some clouds up in the sky. They almost seem to be swimming among the stars. It's so peaceful, calming. My mother swims among those stars.

God, I miss her.

"I wish I could float with the clouds.."

The night was as silent as the day; not at all. Families were outside on their patios enjoying the cool air. Students were studying, parents were drinking and talking. Enjoying themselves...

I let out a hefty sigh and continued walking through the narrow streets. As I continued to walk I entered the more quiet side of town. Hard working laborers and tired broke school students are usually asleep by now. It was the area where I lived, known to most as the Bin, as in trash bin. I let my head bow as I approached my door, slowly working my way up the steps.

"Wait! Sir!" a feminine scream sounded from the distance. Turning my head, I realized it was the girl from work, sprinting again. This time her target was me. Finally having caught up with me, she leaned down, out of breath. I actually got a good look at her this time. She was a slim character with long, dark brown hair. She wore old white Pumas and ripped skinny jeans. The wool beanie she wore rested limp upon her hair. Then I realized.. she was wearing my coat. Tea splatter on the collar and all. This was the girl from a year ago.

Once the girl caught her breath, she looked up at me. Her eyes were a sharp grayish blue, and they seemed to sparkle brightly in the night."I've been looking everywhere for you," she said. I knew why but asked anyway, playing pretend.

"Me? Why? Did you need that bread?" I start to pull it out, playing at my own game.

"No. No, no." the girl slipped the coat off and folded it neatly in her arms. "One year ago, I was walking back to my house from my night job. It was cold and I didn't have a coat. As this man was walking by, he tossed me a coat and walked away. But he didn't just give me a coat," the girl pulled out a note and wad of won. She then read the note aloud, and I flinched. "Your life is worth so much more than mine. Live happily." There was a long pause. "You are that man."

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CHAPTER END

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