Pairing: Kangteuk (not in this chapter)
Summary: Colors frightened him, so he got rid of them. But can anyone reintroduce the beauty of color to someone who does not wish to see it?
A/N: Inspiration from a picture I can't find at the moment ;_;
“White is such a pure color.” said one of his friends. “I feel like it gives a sense of peace as well. When I look at red, I feel angry. When I looked at blue, I feel sad. When I looked at purple, I feel uneasy. When I look at black, I feel…dark. But when I look at white, I don’t feel any of that. I think of light and innocence. I think of how we all were as babies. Without a single sin. A pure slate. We were white once. How I wish the world could be white again.” Those words made Jungsu think a little bit. He looked at the color of the things in his backpack and seemed to almost agree with his friend. The colors did invoke emotions.
Looking at the colorful covers of his books, he saw the emotions play themselves out through the pictures that had never made any sense. A diver in a purple swimsuit and an orange basketball in a separate picture sat on the same cover of his math book. Usually math was not a bad subject for Jungsu, but for some reason, realizing what the colors did to him made it hard for him to want to approach that classroom again; even though he knew he had to. It was like the numbers on the pages were saying something completely different than what they were saying to the rest of his classmates. Like they were whispering something to him that he didn’t want to know.
Next, he noted his heavy history book. He always swore to his friends that it weighed twenty pounds or more. The cover was blue. He had never really enjoyed history all that much. He found he couldn’t care less about what had happened in the past. Now all he could think about as he read the assigned chapters was how sad the lives of people used to be. Lives filled with dispute and war and danger wherever you looked.
Not being able to look at the covers anymore, Leeteuk went home and enclosed the covers with white construction paper. He felt better after that. He didn’t think the same about the books when they were covered in white. He didn’t think the numbers whispered to him about more than probability of pulling a certain number from a hat and he didn’t think about how sad the lives of people used to be, he only thought of how things were much better now.
However, his peace of mind didn’t last long as he began to feel the colors of his clothes affecting his emotions more and more. When he wore blue, he would be depressed all day. When he wore black, he would shut himself off from everyone. When he wore red, he avoided everyone for fear of snapping at them out of senseless anger. When he wore purple, he felt like everyone was staring at him. It was the same with all the other colors he wore. So he began wearing white to get rid of the feeling.
His parents didn’t notice at first. They saw nothing wrong with their son liking the color white. It seemed quite normal to have a favorite color and Jungsu himself thought it was just a little comfort thing. After listening to his friend talk about white and how wonderful it was, Jungsu had also taken a liking to it. His friend had been right after all; white was pure and brought a sense of peace. As long as nothing in his behavior changed, his parents weren’t worried.
It wasn’t until something big happened that he really needed a sense of peace to combat the chaos in his life.
He was walking with another friend one early evening. They were both headed home, but their homes were in the basic same direction, so they walked together most of the way. By the time they went down separate roads, it was getting dark. He had the streetlights to light his way home so he wasn’t worried. He had walked these roads hundreds of times before and he was not worried about doing it again.
He was about a block from his house when he began to feel a bit odd. He had always felt secure on this stretch of road and it was strange to feel like this. Jungsu just kept walking in hopes that the feeling would go away. But it didn’t. In fact, it got worse. He sped up his walk to try and escape the discomforting feeling in the pit of his stomach, but it was already too late.
Two hands landed on his shoulders and yanked him backwards. Jungsu gasped and tried to wriggle out of the grasp of whoever had him. But the grip tightened and spun Jungsu into a wall. He felt the wind knocked out of him as his stomach and ribs hit hard brick was great enough force the he swore a rib was cracked; or at the least bruised badly.
Jungsu made to yell for help, but his mouth was covered quickly and his yell came out muffled and barely audible at all. He bit down on the fingers at his mouth and the man behind him swore as he retracted his hand. Jungsu tried to run again, but the man quickly recovered and pulled him back again. This time, he pinned him to the wall and gagged him with the sweatshirt from around Jungsu’s waist.
Before he could completely understand what was happening, Jungsu was forced to the ground and his clothes were being torn from his body as if they were nothing. Everything was happening too fast and he felt like he wasn’t getting enough air into his lungs to support the speed he was moving through time. He wanted everything to stop; just stop.
He tried to speak through the gag in his mouth but couldn’t get the sounds out and he couldn’t move his arms because his wrists were held tightly above his head. He was crying. He knew what was coming next and he knew he couldn’t get away at this point.
The pain finally struck him and then time slowed down to an excruciatingly slow pace. It was like whatever sick, twisted God that existed was torturing him for some crime he committed. What had he done wrong to deserve this? He questioned his life up to that point and couldn’t find something worthy of a punishment such as that. But maybe the gods were a lot less lenient on mistakes than humans were.
He wanted to scream. He wanted to release his pain into the air and pray that it never came back. But it was like the gag was not just holding his voice in, it was holding in his release from the pain. Jungsu closed his eyes tightly and the sickening colors bloomed behind his eyelids. It was then he understood that red did not just mean anger. He willed time to move fast again and get this whole thing over with. He wanted to go home. But as the colors continued to grow in blotches behind his eyes he knew that time would not speed up.
When it finally ended an eternity later, Jungsu could do nothing but lay there on the ground as the man dressed himself, spat on his face, and then left without a second glance back. Jungsu stayed lying on the ground as the colors faded from his sight. He stayed like that until he heard his phone ring in the pocket of his pants that lay a few feet away.
It took him a moment to register the thought that he should get that. Slowly, he crawled towards his pants and moved them around to find his phone. When he pulled the sleek black phone from the back pocket, he saw the word ‘Home’ glowing under the number that was calling the phone. He took a deep breath and flipped his phone open.
“Hello?” he said in the most normal tone he could. He didn’t want his parents to worry.
“Jungsu? Where are you? We have dinner waiting for you.” came his mother’s sweet voice from the speaker. She sounded worried already. Jungsu bit his lip nervously and tried to breathe evenly so he could ignore the pain that had been assaulting the space between his legs for the past God knows how many minutes – seconds? Hours? He had no idea – so he could give a proper response that would ease his mother’s mind.
“I’ll be home soon. I promise.” he managed in a surprisingly stable voice. But when the call ended, the tears spilled forth uncontrollably. He sat there for another ten minutes just trying to calm himself down. Slowly, the tears stopped and he was able to put his clothes back on in a rush. He made sure that his sweatshirt hid the worst of the tears in the cloth and told himself he would change when he got home. If his parents asked how his clothes had gotten so torn up, he would say that he fell and tore his jeans and the dog chewed up his shirt.
There were still tears lingering in his eyes as he limped home. He rubbed his eyes one last time before inserting his house key into the lock. When the door swung open, he took off his shoes to place by the door, yelled a quick “I’m home.” and rushed up the stairs to his room. He quickly changed his clothes and then went down to have dinner with his parents. They didn’t seem to notice.
“So what took you so long getting home?” asked his father curiously. “You’re always home at the exact same time every day.” Jungsu froze for a split second and then went back to placing the food in his mouth.
“Me and my friend got caught up in something and it took a little longer than expected.” he lied. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine, Dear.” said his mother. “Just next time can you call to tell us? We worry when you do something unexpected.” Jungsu nodded with a small smile.
Mr. Park noticed a bit of tension in his son. “Are you alright, Jungsu?”
“Yeah,” Jungsu lied. “I’m fine. I’m just a bit tired I guess.” He rubbed his eyes a little like he was trying to stay awake. His parents reluctantly accepted the answer and advised him to go to bed early. He wasn’t really tired. If anything, he was a bit scared to fall asleep. He just didn’t want his parents to worry.
He looked back down to his food. Browns, oranges, and greens covered his plate. He finished his rice and announced that he was full before leaving the table to head to his room. Upon arriving in his room, he looked at his walls and his floor and the furniture and felt sick. He rushed to the bathroom down the hall and everything he had just eaten came back up into the toilet.
His mother rushed in and rubbed his back soothingly as his stomach emptied itself into the smooth white bowl. “Are you alright?” asked his mother when it was all over; she was clearly very worried.
“I just suddenly didn’t feel well.” Jungsu answered as he leaned back and breathed deeply. “I’m fine now.” He made to get up off the floor of the bathroom when pain shot through him. The origin of the pain was where…
“Are you alright?” asked his mother for the second time. She had seen him wince strongly and curl himself up. Instead of waiting for an answer, she helped him up. “Let’s get you in bed.” Jungsu resisted the urge to wince again as he stood up. He would have to face more of this pain later.
Lying down in his bed couldn’t have come sooner. Jungsu’s body hurt all over and his stomach was still a bit upset. His mother tucked him in like he was two all over again and gave him a few pills to settle his stomach. Then she left him to sleep.
Sleep was all he was able to do for the next three days. Sleep and have nightmares of that terrible night.
Jungsu tore down the posters that hung on his wall. All the smiling faces of the people on them looked like they were taunting him. They looked so happy, and he was never going to be that happy ever again. He hid all the pictures of family and friends so he didn’t have to look at the smiles in there either.
“Dad, do we have any white paint?” asked Jungsu as his father entered his room with a confused expression on his face.
“Yes.” answered his father truthfully. “How much do you need?”
“I’m going to paint my room. I don’t like this green color anymore.” answered Jungsu as he threw the last of his posters in the trash bin.
“Alright.” answered his father with a concerned look on his face. “Um, Junsu? Why are you throwing away your old posters? And where are all your pictures?”
“I don’t like these bands anymore.” answered Jungsu. “And my pictures are in that box over there.” He indicated a white shoebox on his bed. “I’m putting them away for safekeeping.”
“But wouldn’t you much rather have them out for people to see?” asked his father.
“No.” was the short answer. “Where’s the paint?” Mr. Park almost made a comment about him acting weird, but sighed and told him the paint was in the basement. Jungsu ran out and down the stairs. He found the paint with ease and grabbed the brushes and rollers next to it. When he was back in his room, his father had already left.
Jungsu quickly covered his furniture in tarps to avoid paint getting spilled on them and then set to work on ridding the walls of the green he had once loved as a kid. With every stroke of white that was brought to the walls, Jungsu gradually felt more at ease in his own room. It was weird to feel like your own house was closing in on you. Like you didn’t belong there. Like something was wrong but you didn’t know what. It was a weird feeling, and it was getting worse for Jungsu every day.
When the room was finished, Jungsu looked at it and thought that it wasn’t enough. The green was gone, but the brown of his furniture needed to go as well. He painted those as well. The bookshelf. The dresser. The desk. The windowsill. The closet doors. Everything. It was better, but he still didn’t feel completely better.
“Jungsu! It’s time for your piano lesson!” called his mother.
“I’ll be down in a minute!” Jungsu called back. He carefully set the paint and tools aside and pulled some clean clothes from his newly painted dresser. Once dressed, he went down to meet his piano teacher.
“What is that in your hair?” his piano teacher asked with a small laugh. “It’s white.”
“Oh. It must be paint.” responded Jungsu a bit sheepishly. “I was painting my room just now.”
“Ah. Yes, I do think that would explain it.” His teacher smiled fondly at Jungsu. He had been teaching him piano since he was old enough to reach the keys. “Shall we get started?” Jungsu nodded and they went to the black piano in the living room. For two full hours, his teacher took Jungsu through exercises and songs they had been practicing for competitions.
Jungsu used to love playing the piano. But for some reason, it felt unnatural to play this time around. His teacher stopped his fingers on the keys. “What’s with your playing today?” he asked. “You’re absolutely rigid and your timing is all over the place.”
“I don’t know.” answered Jungsu as he took his fingers from the piano. “I guess I just don’t feel like playing today.” His teacher frowned.
“That’s very unlike you. You always want to play.”
“Well today is different.”
A sigh. “Fine.” said his instructor as he stood from his seat next to the piano bench. “We’ll continue next week.” Jungsu just nodded and got up as well.
A few days later, Jungsu came home with a new white bedspread and a large sack full of white towels. He threw the old striped blue blankets in the closet of spare blankets and laid out his new blankets on his bed. Then he took the towels and threw them over the brown hardwood floor. There wasn’t much in his room anymore that was not white. He had colored all his books in white construction paper like his school books. He had removed all his stuffed animals from when he was little and virtually everything on his shelves had been placed in boxes so he didn’t have to look at them.
Over the past week, he had become more and more afraid of colors. Ever since the night the colors flowered behind his eyelids, he couldn’t stand seeing them. They all frightened him except for the one color that never showed up. He went to the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror for a moment. He was still dressed in all white and his skin had grown paler than usual. There was only one thing out of place.
He fingered the locks of his black hair that fell in front of his eyes. He didn’t like it.
Mr. and Mrs. Park exchanged yet another concerned look between them when Jungsu came in with bleached hair. Jungsu had never done anything to his hair. And he had never show such an obsession before. Did something happen?
“Jungsu…We’re getting worried about you.” his mother stated slowly. “Why did you change your room? And what have you done to your beautiful hair?” She reached out to touch it, but Jungsu drew back. He was still under the illusion that he could fool his parents into thinking that nothing was wrong.
“I just felt like I needed a change.” Jungsu answered.
“There’s something you’re not telling us.” Mr. Park accused. Jungsu froze on the spot. “You’re our son. We know when something is not right.”
“But there’s nothing wrong.”
“Quit lying to us!” yelled Mrs. Park. “What happened to you last week?”
“Nothing happened!” Jungsu yelled back. He didn’t wait to hear more. Stomping out of the room, he grabbed his dinner and headed up to his room. But the moment he set his food down, he looked at it and couldn’t bring himself to touch it. It looked like a normal, simple dinner he had had hundreds of times before, and yet it looked disgusting. The meat and veggies covered in a flavorful sauce were supposed to be eaten with the rice, but Jungsu couldn’t bring himself to touch it. He finished off the rice and drank his glass of milk, but the rest remained untouched.
He remembered the night he came home when something similar had happened. He didn’t eat much of the other foods; just the rice. Looking at the rest of his food, he felt sick to his stomach. That’s when he had a thought. As irrational as it seemed to many people, it made sense to Jungsu at the time. He decided to only eat white foods from then on so not only could his outer appearance seem pure and clean, but his inside would be as well.
Later when he went back down for more food, he found hard boiled eggs (he could just dig out the yoke and throw it away), tofu, potatoes (exclude the peel), and vanilla ice cream. That’s when his parents called a doctor behind his back to see if there might be a reason for his behavior.
“I don’t know what to say to you.” the doctor told them over the phone. “How long has this all been going on?”
“About a week.” Mr. Park informed him. “It was very sudden and we have no idea how to handle it. We think there’s something he’s not telling us, but he won’t say a word.”
“Hm. If you can get him out of the house for a checkup, maybe I can tell you more. But right now, there’s nothing I can do for you.” said the doctor bluntly.
“Alright, we’ll try to get him out.” Mr. Park said as he cast a look towards his wife. He hung up the phone and sighed deeply. What was wrong with their son?
“Jungsu! Your piano teacher is here!” called Mrs. Park. It had been days since the phone call and things had remained pretty much the same. Hopefully things would stay that way. In a matter of minutes, Jungsu was trudging down the stairs slowly. When his piano teacher looked up at him, a frown was set so deep into his features that Mrs. Park was sure his face would get stuck that way.
“Jungsu, you look terrible. What did you do to your hair?” Jungsu didn’t answer. He just dragged himself over to the black piano and sat down. He messed with the white keys as he waited for his teacher to begin the lesson. Instead of trying to converse with Jungsu any further, the piano teacher cleared his throat uncomfortably and began straight away.
“Run a few scales.” Jungsu did. But it was all the same scale. “Run a different scale.” Jungsu didn’t listen. “Play in F Major.” Jungsu looked at the keys and shook his head. “Come on, Jungsu, I know you know how to play a simple scale. It’s just F, G, A, B flat, C, D, E, F.” Slowly, Jungsu reached towards the piano again. He played F. He played G. He played A. He played…
His hand paused over the black key that was B flat. It stayed there for a long time and his piano teacher was very confused as to why Jungsu had stopped playing. Suddenly, Jungsu stood up from his seat at the bench. “I’m not going to play piano ever again.”
“What?” exclaimed his instructor in utter shock.
“You heard me!” yelled Jungsu. “No more piano. EVER!” He ran out of the room with his music and up the stairs into his room, leaving behind a stunned music teacher and parents who were ready to pull their hair out to figure out what was going on.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Lee.” he heard his mother say. He shut his door loudly to be left alone in his white haven. He had gotten rid of everything with color and he only ate white things. But then he realized something. He looked down at the musical scores in his hands. There was black ink all over them. He tore furiously at the pages and let the pieces fly around.
The black needed to disappear. It was the worst color of all. It was the complete opposite of white and it represented everything that the world was and everything he wanted to get away from. If he let those little blots of ink on paper remain in his room, he was going to be sucked back into the world where everything is dangerous and unkind. He didn’t want that. He didn’t want that. He didn’t want that.
He tore even more furiously at the papers as he stomped around his room. Then a sharp sting came across his fingers. He stopped and stared at his hand. A thin line ran across his fingers. A thin red line. Jungsu’s mind went crazy as he stared at the blood that gathered in the crease of the tiny cut. When it dripped down and onto his floor, he went completely blank.
Somehow, he ended up on his bed. Somehow, his parents had appeared by his side. Somehow, they were screaming at him and he didn’t hear it. Somehow, there were more people in the room. And somehow, they were taking him away from his safety.
And for the moment…he was too traumatized to care.
|Powered by web analytics software.|
- Current Location:in my bed :)
- Current Music:Wedding Dress - Taeyang