First Week

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I looked at my mom and before the preaching starts I hurriedly went out to the back exit of the church and settled myself to the hidden corner where nobody can see me.

I took out the lighter in my pocket and rummage my bag, searching for my cigarettes.

It's always been like this every Sunday for the past 11 months, me with my family going to church. It started when my mom has been invited by one of her officemates to go to an event at some church and after spending the whole day in that place?
My mom had proclaimed herself that she has been born again with a new spirit and soul, encouraging all of us to go with her the next Sunday.

And that's how the story starts!
Where my brother, dad and I had no other choice to be with mom at the church.
At first, I didn't care that much at all but after two fucking months? It started to get really boring, so I bailed out almost every time before the preaching will start.

It was all good.
Me, sitting here alone, doing almost nothing but then one day?
A fucking midget appeared in front of me, wearing a smile, exposing his crooked two front teeth.

and everything changed.

When I found the packet of cigarette in my bag, I pulled out one stick in the pack and put it between my lips. I lighted it with my lighter and puffed my first smoke of the day.

I didn't care at all if it affects my lungs or any part of my internal organs.
It's been my way to burn all of the negativity that the world always accorded us to feel.

I don't care at all.

At least, I wanted to believe that.

You see, I'm the one and only black-sheep inside our family tree. Wherever I go? I always get into trouble even though I tried my best to avoid it.
I can't get an A or even a B and C at any subjects in school. I don't do sports because I'm a lazy ass bitch. Instruments hate me. Don't even mention our kitchen that I almost burned.
The only good thing that I can do is dance which my parents weren't proud at all.

But the worst part of me is,
I'm a suicidal freak. I get sad at little things and I'm sensitive as fuck.

Yet of course! Nobody knows that.
I act like I didn't care at all, right? Just what I've said, I don't care.

At least, they believed that.

"I like your outfit today."
I turned my head to the side and there I saw him, the midget. Every time he approaches me, he always amused me by his unusual remarks.

He's the only person who noticed that I love dressing up without me telling anything. Park Jimin stroll his way to me as he runs his fingers through his black hair.

I inhaled the remaining cigarette as I squeezed the tip of the stick on the ground. I looked up at him and he was smiling gently at me.

Well, he always was.



"Look, what I have for you. I was walking my way home from my check-up yesterday when I saw this and it reminds me of you."
I looked at what he bought for me and I saw a white tulip carefully wrapped in a brown paper.

It makes me frown as my eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Why this?"
I asked insecurely. 

"Why not? This is the real you right? Beautiful, soft and fragile."
I was speechless for a moment, I just stared at his eyes that glints sincereness.

How can he effortlessly say that? Beautiful? I can't even look at my reflection in the mirror. I always jarred when I catch a glimpse of myself, so how can he say that I'm beautiful?

Soft? But everyone says that I'm heartless and selfish.

Fragile? Of course. My demeanor is not that tough, I break easily but no one tried to treasure me.

"Stop doubting yourself."
His soft gentle voice filled my ears as he settled beside me, giving the tulips in my grasp.

"Sometimes, you gotta believe when someone is complimenting you. Cause it meant to make us feel good about ourselves and not the other way round."
He leaned his head against the wall as he stared at the light blue sky and I watched him.

I watched how his eyes flutter closed, to the way his Adam's apple went up to down, how his full lips formed into a gentle smile when the wind blew on to his milky pale skin, he's the one who is beautiful.

For the past nine months that we're casually talking about nothing, deep inside I knew that I'm grateful that Jimin is always here. Encouraging me to still find beauty in this fucked up life.

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