masochist | oh sangwoo

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏°

C H A P T E R 1

Don't hang around other children, you'll get influenced.

Don't make friends in school, your studies will get affected.

Don't play outside, you'll get hurt.

" You have a weak body, I can't let you do things that normal kids do. Please understand, I'm doing this because I love you."

The first time I made a friend was in my first year of middle school. Her name was Eunice, she was my table partner, a girl from out of town. I've never met someone so talkative and cheerful as her. Her eyes seemed to sparkle whenever she talked. And she would always try to talk to me no matter how much I ignored her.

The first time mother found out that I had made a friend, she cried. Not tears of joy that her daughter has made her first friend, but tears of shame and anger.

I could vaguely recall the pain I felt when she whipped my hands with a wooden cane. She didn't stop even when my skin tore and bled. She ignored my cries, even when I begged her to stop through my tears. Did she not realise that I was in pain?

" I'm doing this because I love you. Why can't you see that? I just want what's best for you, "

I remembered how she cried as she whipped my hands. Was she in pain too?

Mother locked me in my room for the next 5 days. She didn't dress my wounds nor did she gave me bandages for me to wrap my hands with.

When I went back to school, I was alone again like how I expected. Everyone avoided me like the plague. They pointed at my hands and whispered to each other on how disgusting it looked. Eunice decided to change seats while I was gone. She too avoided me.

The first time I lost a friend was in middle school.

As time goes by, mother's rules increased. Everytime I broke one of the rules she would take out the wooden cane again. By now my hands are covered in ugly scars, hidden by bandages I wear everyday.

" I'm doing this because I love you, "

She would say whenever she punished me. Somehow, over the years those words seem to grow on me. She was right, she just wanted what's best for me.

When I first entered university, mother told me she was proud of me. I was perfect, just like how she used to be.

I didn't stand out, I didn't talk to anybody and I always go home straight away after classes end. Just like how mother wanted me to be.

I'm finally a perfect child.

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a bit of a background story ?
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