"We can no longer afford your piano lessons. I'm sorry." my dad whispered.
I sighed. Its always happening. The yelling, the screaming, the breaking, and for what? I could help.
"You gambled again, didn't you?" I cried.
He looked down. His eyes showed sadness, but not forgiveness. "The bus will be here soon."
I scoffed. We were never happy. Not now, not ever. My bestfriend isn't even real. Just an illusion. A sickness. A disease. I've gotten glares from everyone.
"Who is she talking to?" or maybe, "There's the psycho again."
That's all I ever hear.
I grabbed my backpack, the fabric scraping the cut on my hand that was made from the piece of glass my mother threw at my father. It stung, but nothing hurts worse than seeing the bruise on my fathers face. It must be pain that brings us together.
I slammed the door as I left. The patter-patter of the rain hitting the leaves below was soothing, I could no longer hear the screams of my mother.
I quickly clasped the hand rail, but slipped. I stumbled around for a moment, but picked myself up. The bus driver snickered. He was the only one that saw it, beside the cameras.
I'm the first one to get on the bus.
The bus ride is about two hours total, so I sleep. My best friend is already there, surprisingly.
"Hello." I say.
He waves back and continues to stare out the window. Something is bothering him, but I'd rather not ask him. He can be pretty feisty. So, I end up laying my head on his shoulder.
I wake up when he gets up. Kihyun. That's what he told me to call him.
"C'mon, time to go."
I yawned and walked out of the bus. The school is usually cold, but it was colder. Weirder. I checked the pin-board, like I do everyday.
Something caught my eye.
Piano Lessons. Free and after school. Music Room B.
Let's get it, baby!