ꜱᴀꜰᴇ

•6

warning: eating disorders/collapsing.

"I'll see you tomorrow, right?"
Turning to Mingyu from my porch steps, I smiled. "Yeah," I said back, "I'd be dead if my dad found out I skipped school."
Mingyu chuckled, but I don't think he realized that I meant I'd probably actually die. Not figuratively die.
I waved to the boy, then spun on my heel and walked into my house. Sucking in a sharp breath, I pursed my lips and waited for my father to start yelling.
To my surprise, everything stayed silent. I raised my eyebrow for a second then rolled my eyes and scoffed.
"What a headass you are, Wonwoo," I said to myself. "He rarely comes home right away. You should know that by now."
Letting out a sigh of both relief and content, I closed the door behind me and set my house key on the kitchen table. I walked up the stairs and into my bedroom, flopping down on my bed. I really didn't feel like doing the chores. I think I'd rather take a beating than do those chores. Especially after "hanging out" with such a pretty man... All my energy is drained.
I really need to shut the fuck up. Okay. I can't fall in love. I don't commit. I'm scared of it.
Basically, the only way to not fall in love is to stay away from people that I could fall in love with. Which means everyone, as sad as it is. It really sucks. My condition... My fears. They don't make life easy. I'm scared of the world. So much hate, I'm scared of it. The only thing about that is the fact that I'm used to hate, but it doesn't mean I like it, you know? No one likes hate.
Anyway.
As far as I know, my dad shouldn't be home until 5, at least. I sighed deeply and rolled myself off of my bed. I groggily stood up and walked down the stairs, kind of feeling dizzy. Can I die from not eating for six days? I drink water. I'm not gonna die, right?
Slowly walking down the stairs, I gripped the railing tightly. As my foot hit the last step, I felt myself falling... But in a way where I couldn't possibly hold myself up. My ankle twisted a bit, and I continued to fall until my body hit the floor, and so did my head. Hard.
"Shit..."

~~

narrator's pov.

Mr. Jeon put his forefinger to his temple as he stood in front of the door of his house. He sighed and wrapped his hand around the doorknob, opening it. When he opened the door, his eyes went wide at the sight that lied on his kitchen floor.
Wonwoo laid practically lifeless; pale, dark circles under his eyes, and his fingers and arms looked slender. Mr. Jeon tilted his head, laying his briefcase down next to the kitchen table and kneeling beside Wonwoo. He purses his lips and gently shook Wonwoo by the shoulders, for he didn't really know how to be caring. He's really a nice man, he just... Doesn't know how to be a good father. Or a father, at all, for that matter.
When he saw that Wonwoo wasn't moving, he panicked a little. His pupils dilated, stressing out. He placed his hands on Wonwoo's forearm and tried to pull the boy up, but to no avail.

(thank you, riley, for helping me there.)

Mr. Jeon cleared his throat and stood up, taking his phone out of his back pocket. His eyebrows knitted together as he dialed 911, wondering if he should put on a more sophisticated voice than the one he had.
"Fuck it," he sighed.
The telemarketer voice for the line came over the phone, and Mr. Jeon rolled his eyes.
"Please hold while we connect you to the next available line of customer service."
The man pursed his lips, internally complaining about the fact that it was stupid that they didn't have enough customer service workers to get to you immediately.
After about fifteen seconds, a more human-like voice came through the line. A woman.
"911, how can I help you?"
"Um- Hi," Mr. Jeon cursed himself for starting off such an important and urgent call with hi. "My son- He's passed out on the floor, and he's not showing any signs of- Life, really."
"Did you check for any wounds or marks on his body?"
The man cleared his throat, kneeling back down next to his son. "N- No."
"Please check for any signs of violence."
Mr. Jeon set his phone down next to him and put it on speaker. His hands shook, not really knowing what to do as he gently raised Wonwoo's sleeves to see that the boy's arms were significantly slimmer than they should be. The man cleared his throat and decided against searching Wonwoo's body, as it would be awkward.
As he went to pick up his phone, he noticed that Wonwoo's head was turned to the right, while the boy was laying on his stomach. Mr. Jeon peeked around and lifted Wonwoo's head up a bit, feeling the knot on the side of his head.
He picked up the phone. "I don't think it's violence, but he has a knot on the side of his head. It's probably from when he fell, it seems like he fell down the stairs or something."
"Mhm, can you not get to the nearest hospital?"
"I just moved here, I'm not sure where the nearest hospital is."
"Okay, if you give me your address, I can send an ambulance to your home to get your son to the hospital."
Mr. Jeon recited his address, kind of starting to fidget. He actually cared, believe it or not.
"Okay, sir, an ambulance is on the way. Can you check your son's pulse for me, please?" the operator suggested.
"Yes," Mr. Jeon said as he put his phone back down next to him. He reached forward a bit and put his forefinger on Wonwoo's wrist, feeling around until he could feel a pulse.
"I can feel a pulse," the man reassured. "He'll be okay, right?"
The woman on the other side of the line cleared her throat. "Yes, sir. That's our job."
Soon, Mr. Jeon could hear the sirens of an ambulance around his neighborhood. He sighed in relief and stood up. He went to his door, opening it and turning his porch light on so they would see him standing in the doorway.
Lights started to bounce off of the walls of the neighbors' houses, and Mr. Jeon begged for them to go any quicker. He sighed when they continued to take a while, then he went back over to Wonwoo. He turned the boy over onto his back, studying his face. It was visibly slimmer, and his eyes were sunken in. He looked tired, too.
Mr. Jeon noticed the bruise on his son's cheekbone, shivering a little bit.
A knock was heard at the door, making Mr. Jeon get up and open the door to allow the paramedics into the house. He greeted them as they walked into the house, one of them stopping next to him. The operator on the phone had hung up, hearing that the ambulance had gotten there.
"Can you explain to me what happened?" a voice asked, who turned out to be the paramedic that had stopped next to Mr. Jeon. It was a woman, visibly shorter than Mr. Jeon was, and her badge read "Hong, Ally."
Mr. Jeon fidgeted nervously where he was standing. "Um- Yes, I came home and found him here. He's completely unresponsive, but he's breathing, and he has a pulse."
The woman had been writing on a notepad while Mr. Jeon was talking, and when he stopped, she looked up at him. "What time did you get home?"
"I- I don't know, about fifteen or twenty minutes ago?" The woman nodded and jotted the information onto her notepad.
She began putting the notepad into her back pocket, clicking her pen closed. "I'm sure your son will be fine," she reassured. "We'll run some tests, and we'll get him to be responsive according to those results." She spun on her heel a bit after nodding to Mr. Jeon, then went to help the other paramedics get Wonwoo on the stretcher. He seemed to be lifted easily, which sent a pang through Mr. Jeon's heart.
"You're welcome to ride in the back of the ambulance with your son," a male paramedic told him.
Mr. Jeon shook his head. "I'll just follow behind, is that okay?"
"Of course."