Raising the volume one more step, one more step, one more step. Feeling the candles warmth embracing the cold me. The calming darkness of the room surrounding me. The music playing loud enough to shut out every bad thought that tried to edge itself into my brain. Loud enough to damp the pain of the new bruises. It’s been so long I couldn’t even feel the blood leaking through the compress over my chest. Who knew one could be this relaxed. What more could happen at this point. I might not make it through the day. The old man isn’t here anymore. The woman who I once called mother is long gone. What I have left is this feeling of feeling nothing. I don’t feel like doing anything. No cellphone nor anyone who’d call anyway. No friends. No familiars. No relatives. No reason to morn this last day. Why not just close my eyes and wait for the blood to flow out of my body, one drip at a time. Why not.
Jeesh, why would anyone cause this much trouble at this time of the night. 3 am and the music is echoing all the way down to our apartment. Come to think of it, who is it that lives here. I’ve never seen anyone here. Only heard the noises of loud music and the loud thuds that came regularly. already sent a warning to that apartment. 309. No one ever responded to it. And thus here I am, the used high school boy who can’t afford to get his allowance cut off.
That’s weird. What is this omnious feeling? I really have a bad feeling about this one. Should I have brought the old hags baseball bar just in case? Too late for that now. Knock knock. No answer. The door isn’t locked. I’m entering. Anyone there I was about to ask. As I opened the door someone fell out. The person had sat leaning towards the door. I should look at the person but the room locked my gaze.
Lit Candles everywhere and in the corner a small radio with music loud enough for my ears to hurt. I almost hurried over the person to shut it off but I stopped and tried to ignore it. My fingers checked his pulse. It was there but it was faint. His collarbone showed off creamy pale white skin. So skinny despite his height.
I took my cellphone and called for an ambulance. The moment seemed to surreal for me to panic. The unconscious person was a woman, no a boy, maybe my age even. The long bangs which covered his face were the color of castanet I brushed them to the side and saw a beautiful face. Bishounen. Is he really a man? The light from the candles let show the shadows his long eyelashes cast. I was about to call for my mother when I saw the compress on his chest covered in bright red blood. How could I have missed it. His white shirt was completely stained and the blood had bled enough to cover most of his arms and the floor surrounding them. How could he still be alive. How could he still look so peaceful? I couldn’t let the boy go. I sat there, holding him tight in my arms as he had fallen right on me. He was so light, so cold. He grew colder and the panic started to rise for the first time. I held him close. So close. Clutching him as tight yet as gentle as I could towards my chest. Live. Live. Live. Please come back here soon. Please be safe. Hoping that my warmth would come onto him as well I sat like that in that surreal moment. In a room covered in candles and music loud enough for my eyes to hurt. The boy lying heavy in my arms.
The ambulance came and with them the old hag ran. Get the stretcher they called the others. No. I lift him up in my arms. I will not let him go. I can’t. I won’t. I carried him easily, carefully, gently down to the car. He was laid down on the bed and they put him on an IV. I was in a dreamlike state. No. It wasn’t a dream. It was a nightmare. Although I should panic I couldn’t. His relaxed expression relaxed me. We weren’t really there. It wasn’t really real. They hurried him to surgery. I put up a fight when they forced me to let him go. I sat there covered in his blood on the chairs in the waiting room. Still not real. The surgeon came out. He would make it. Just barely though. Minute later and the dreamlike moment would have turned to a dark fatal one.
No matter what I couldn’t let this boy off my mind. I sat with him there, holding his hand tight. At night I snuck in and moved him a little to the side and lied down beside him. He was someone I had never met before. Yet I could not let him go. It was as if he was someone I loved. Someone I had loved for a very long time. I held him as if we were lovers each night. By morning I made sure to sneak out so I would not get caught. The boy woke up. He wouldn’t talk at first. But he let me stay beside him. One day, he cried in his sleep and I held him tight. He opened his eyes, the color of water shone and half asleep he smiled. It was lucky the room was dark for my cheeks were suddenly bright red. I had never heard his voice. Only known him a few weeks. Yet I loved him already.
The day after that I heard him for the first time. I was scolded and for the first time I heard him laugh. It was the sweetest sound that melted my heart. The thought had started to struck me. Who was he. Why was he hurt. Why was he alone. His name was Momo Youna I found out later. Seventeen year old. The high school next to mine. No mother. No knowledge of his father. No other relatives. Cohabitation or habitation unknown.
He was released and I took him home to my house. I would take care of him. Even if there were someone who tried to claim them, I wouldn’t allow it. He was mine.
Slowly he started to talk to me. He warmed up smiled more and more often. One day he finally told me about himself. That day my heart was frozen with horror of what I was told. Then I could not bear to hear anymore. I kissed him. My first kiss and it was with a man. I loved him so I kissed him. That’s it. I love him. And one day I will make him love me too.