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People, whether anyone likes it or not, always depended on each other, and it’ll be like that until we become extinct. It’s a fact that can be proven as true in many ways. Ranging from situations like being someone’s friend that you can depend on in tough situations, to your neighbor that always turns on your tv, because it’s broken and it only starts working when he plugs the cable in.
Beomseok is just like every other human being. He has to depend on someone.
And suddenly, out of nowhere, he’s in a secluded room, a place that he doesn’t even know, and doesn’t need to. Nothing bad is happening to him, but he feels as if someone is strangling him. The air is suffocating due to the smoke coming from someone’s cigarette. Beomseok can see their silhouette, but he can’t pinpoint who he’s looking at.
He wants to say something, but his throat is burning. He doesn’t know what happened. There are so many possibilities, it’s scary to think of.
But he feels like he knows. Like he recognizes it from somewhere, and it isn’t a distant memory, but something that still feels really fresh. As if it has happened not even yesterday, but 10 minutes ago, if not seconds. He feels the same disgusting feeling that lingered in the air way back in that dark alley, with him being as helpless as he is now.
He can feel the silhouette moving closer towards him, with its hand reaching out to him. Not in a dangerous way, but as if it tries to make itself look innocent, more harmless than ever.
Slowly, he starts to recognize the view. His body position was the same. He felt strangled in the same way. His throat was burning, with unwanted cum dripping from his shivering lips. His voice inaudible, face wet with tears that felt like the purest blood ever. The cigarette barely holding on in between the perpetrator’s fingers, which were pretty rough. The ones that are now trying to pet him, as if he’s a guinea pig that you can commit your sexual fantasies on.
Beomseok tries to scream, even though it doesn’t seem as if someone is about to unbutton his pants. It feels like the man is smiling in a flirty manner, but Beomseok only wants to puke on his expensive shoes. He feels even more endangered than ever. When he screams, his voice comes out as, at most, raspy. The words are a random jumble of letters. The worst thing of all is that, well, there was nobody else whom he could’ve depended on. Someone, who would be there in an instant, even a bypasser that would accidentally hear his deformed cries. Just like before. There was no one to save him.
He opens his eyes rapidly, unable to catch his own breath. His first thought is to make sure that what happened in his nightmare isn’t happening again in real time.
What’s unfortunate, is that when he feels a little calmer than before, guilt washes over him from head to toe.
It wasn’t his fault that this took place, but he feels as if it really was. It drains him to the core, and he’s had enough. Everything reminds him of how the man looked at him, and probably saw him as a pathetic… whore, he thinks. That disgusts him, and he feels like he’ll never be clean again. The handsome man’s ugly touch can’t be scrubbed off of his body, at least not until he throws it out, just like trash.
Therefore, there’s only one way by which he can feel at peace.
He doesn’t call anyone, he doesn’t care. No one else did anyway. He couldn’t depend on a single soul, so it doesn’t matter. He thinks, as he makes a successful attempt at slitting his throat.
It’s his last breath, and he can only think about how he satisfied the beast anyway.
It’s not your fault that you weren’t there, but remember:
Dependance on you matters.