ESCAPE ❇A Yoonmin Fan Fiction ❇

5. I look like a cat who decided it might be fun to go for a swim(unedited)

Chapter 5: I look like a cat who decided it might be fun to go for a swim.

Sarcasm. Classified as harsh, caustic personal remarks too or about someone ;less than subtle remarks.

No matter what fancy words are used, sarcasm remains one of my favorite tools used in writing. The idea was revolutionary. I am just one of the millions of lives that sarcasm has affected. I make sure to show my gratitude everyday.

Despite one minor flaw, sarcasm is perfect. This flaw being that when used in an unspoken manner, sarcasm can be misinterpreted. The author may be implying a completely different idea than is portrayed to the reader. Sarcasm is best shown through tone. The author has no physical voice in the work, consequently, the most effective expression of sarcasm, intonation, becomes futile. This can cause confusion and possible conflict. When used too frequently, the reader begins to question the authors true intent of the words. The miscommunication can lead to the loss of trust between author and reader. This trust is the single most important thing as a writer. Without the audiences trust, you have no case, no reason for writing. Because without trust, you have no audience.
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I knew it was going to be a gloomy, dark, and wet day even before I managed to extract myself from the comfort and warmth of my bed to take a look outside.
Waking up to this weather on a normal Sunday morning would result in me making some tea or hot chocolate and sitting down with my laptop trying my best to conquer my newest form of writers block. However, today was no normal Sunday. In fact, it was the last official day of summer. Classes would start again tomorrow.
Surely there would be several parties thrown honor of the last day of summer. Undoubtedly trashing some of the newly cleaned and painted dorm rooms.
I don't like parties. As I mentioned before, I prefer being alone. And though I am alone, I'm never lonely. At any given moment, one could probably find me sitting in the closest, uninhabited, place I could find around campus with a book in my hands. I entrench myself in literature, finding that I can live the lives of characters without having to leave the spot I've staked out. I would rather be alone with my books than surrounded by people I didn't have any desire to know.

All I want to do at the current moment is pick up a new book that's begging to be read, but I can't. And that ladies and gentlemen, is because of park Jimin.
Because he had my bags sent to the main housing office on campus, my supposed comfortable morning would now be spent slowly trudging my way to the office, in the middle of a storm, with no umbrella.

Once again finding reasons to justify my immediate feeling of dislike towards the boy, I set off hoping to catch a break in the rain.
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I was soaking wet. As I walked hunched over, my hoodie pulled over my head providing nothing but the illusion of protection, the rain had somehow managed to reach every inch of my body.

I have no doubt that as I stumbled into the office looking like a cat who had decided it might be fun to go for a swim, my sanity was questioned. The waiting room was completely devoid of life. Most people probably not fighting for a chance to have a discussion with Helga, the woman who, oh so kindly, 'helped' me yesterday.

A squish sound, akin to that of a child walking with wet flip flops, emanates loudly with every step I take on the tile floors. As I approach the desk, I notice Helga is no longer alone.

Beside her sits a boy, a year my senior, with perfectly groomed brown hair accompanied by very prominent cheek bones that in turn, accentuated his soft jaw. The boys head was bent and he bore a soft smile.
It was blatantly obvious to me that he was enraptured by the book in front of him, hidden by the slight upward curve of the reception desk. I knew this look well, having worn it many times myself.