Eighteen’s Bed Novel Completed - Chapter 195

There was the scent of a green pine tree standing tall in the east. The pine cones must have chimed too. His hands, which I glimpsed, were wet, as if he had just come out of the bathroom. As he came closer, his shorter height approached me.

“Uh…”

I hastily raised the hand that was fiddling with the rosary. A small breeze stirred the moment I raised my hand in the air, and that child brushed past me. I blankly turned my body and looked in the direction he was heading.

That child went up to Han Junwoo and said something. It was mixed with the chattering sounds, so I couldn’t hear it well.

That bastard Han Junwoo laughed, and that child, looking angry, shook his wet hands. Immediately after, Han Junwoo put his hand on that child’s shoulder, and the two went into the classroom. Even though the bell for the next class was ringing, my feet wouldn’t leave the hallway.

“Crazy, fuck! Fuc-k!”

My face is hot.

Fuck, this son of a bitch.

I was drenched in a humiliation that made me want to go crazy. I had thought of what to say, I had roughly decided… We met eyes, didn’t we? Right. I had thought of what to say to you beforehand. Why, why did he just pass me by without even looking at me? Did he ignore me?

Knowing me. Knowing who I am. He must know who I am. That can’t be.

I clenched my hand. My short-trimmed nails dug into my palm. Then I opened one hand and pressed it hard against my mouth and chin. Which bastard said he was Han Junwoo? Which bastard?

“Which bastard…”

Confused emotions traced back through my memory. Who was it? He was a big guy. Ah, Kim Minho. Kim Minho, that son of a bitch Kim Minho. That son of a bitch!

The increasingly silent air in the hallway seemed to be mocking me. No, it was definitely mocking me. That child, that child definitely glanced at me with pathetic eyes. No, it was definitely true. This all happened because of that son of a bitch Kim Minho.

I escaped the hallway as if fleeing from humiliation. With every step, everything in the world seemed to be choking my neck. Pathetic. You pathetic bastard.

As soon as I returned to the classroom, I witnessed Kim Minho glance at me and then avoid my gaze. I lost my reason due to his irresponsibility. Was the teacher there? I don’t know. Probably not. First, I had to punish that son of a bitch Kim Minho. That rotten bastard. Mocking people?

I ran straight to the center of the classroom and kicked the leg of Kim Minho’s chair. With a sickening sound, his heavy body fell spectacularly.

“Hey, you crazy fucking… bastard, what are you doing all of a sudden?!”

A few others who collided seemed to have rolled under their chairs too, but that wasn’t my concern. Who was supposed to be frowning, I was so desperate to crush that face that dared to frown first with my foot.

“Stop it! Hey! Ack! Fuck, stop it! Stop it!”

I want to crush that grotesque face like mud. I want to kill him. The impulse led my body. I lifted my foot and stomped on Kim Minho’s nose with all my might, precisely.

“Uh, ugh!”

Something bulging touched the middle of my sole. Aha. It was his nose. Only then did I feel a little relieved. I put my weight on it and twisted my ankle, and a wave of catharsis washed over me.

“Han Junwoo? Han Junwoo, you said? You fucking son of a bitch, who’s Han Junwoo? Fuck! Because of you…”

“Ack! Ack!“

“I almost died of… embarrassment…”

Anger rose again. Crushing his face wasn’t enough. I lifted my foot again and stomped on his neck. I put my weight on my heel and pressed down on his Adam’s apple. Then Kim Minho’s face turned blue and he started coughing. But my anger still wouldn’t subside. I looked around and saw a utility knife on a nearby desk. Ah, that’s it.

“That…”

After kicking Kim Minho’s neck with my foot, I grabbed the knife on the desk. And just as I pushed the utility knife with my thumb, extending the blade a little.

“You, you, you bastard! What are you doing right now?!”

Someone grabbed my shoulder and pushed me. It was the homeroom teacher. And so, my lecture ended unfinished.

Damn it, the homeroom teacher raged and nagged me for days. Just over that trivial matter. Kids can fight sometimes, can’t they? Kim Minho himself didn’t blame me for what happened, he became very quiet in class, and even apologized to me, so what was the problem?

Anyway, it was a bit funny. The homeroom teacher’s tone became softer day by day. Now, as I listened to the teacher’s words, which he forced into a lower voice, with one ear and let them out the other, I thought. Ah, he finally got a call from my mother.

‘Our child is a bit childish, and still a child. You know our child is an early birthday, right? He’s just a bit slower in development than other kids.’ That’s what she must have said. Ugh, it’s so obvious.

Now, when I got tired of the same old repertoire and drifted into other thoughts, the smell of cigarettes and coffee mixed together permeated my nose. Look at that rotten breath. What a stinky fragrance. I almost died trying to hold back curses.

But just two days later. After two days, all my annoyance evaporated.

A small document. Just that one thing was the cause.

“Yohan, you need to start off well. Your mother also asked for something.”

“…”

“Where are you looking? Oh, the list of academically excellent students? Yes, Yohan. You should be on here too. You can do it. Your grades aren’t that bad, are they? Your mother said you used to study well when you were little.”

“Teacher Minseong. Do you have a moment?”

The homeroom teacher made a troubled expression at the call from a young teacher shouting from afar, unaware that he was in a consultation. Judging by his expression, it must have been a request he couldn’t refuse. Something more urgent than my consultation. The homeroom teacher eventually said, “Just a moment,” and stood up. I was just staring blankly at the desk, so I don’t know what expression the homeroom teacher made.

A white face floated on a white paper. That face was disturbingly expressionless.

“…Kang Jun.”

Kaaang-Jun. Last name Kang, first name Jun. So it was Jun.

I took out my phone when no one was looking. A faint, artificial mechanical sound spread through the bustling faculty room.

No bugs appeared in the newly moved-in mansion. But who knows, they might be hiding somewhere. That’s how bugs are. They hold their breath and hide when the lights are on, then emerge, moving their dozens of legs, when everyone is asleep at night. Until every shadow in the mansion is densely filled with bug eggs.

It had been quite a while since I ate meals with my family. I refused first, and they accepted. It was from the time my grades plummeted like a crumbling tower.

That’s right. My father said that.

‘I don’t know why I have to raise you, Go Yohan.’

Because I’m your child. You fucking bastard. I mumbled inaudibly with my head bowed. That comment churned my stomach, and in a fit of anger, I declared a hunger strike.

Finely torn report cards fell like petals onto the carpet. ‘So you were a bug after all.’ I heard words like that too. Not knowing how terrifying a creature a bug is. ‘Someone like you should be stomped to death.’ Was it a hallucination?

Sometimes, whenever the back of my head tingled, I heard such hallucinations. The tingling in the back of my head was because my head was cracked when I fell down the stairs in middle school in the early morning. I still resent myself from that day. Because my grades plummeted after that.

Why did I go down the stairs then? No matter how much I think, I can’t remember.

And after the accident, I often couldn’t suppress the surging impulses. My brain must have been damaged when the back of my head cracked. I lived a week where I remembered something only to forget it, and forgot each day as it passed. That’s why I’m living like this now. Just like now.

Eleven o’clock. It was when the dawn began to open its eyes.

“I saw your admission grades.”

My father often talks to me when no one else is around. Today, it was in the darkened dining room. It was eleven at night, and I was eating, when my father, still in his suit, appeared holding an empty glass. It wasn’t particularly scary. But when I saw my father’s hands, his watch, and the glass, my whole body stiffened.

“You’re eating like a dog without any conscience, Go Yohan.”

“…”

“Do you… do you even know how you’re comfortably eating in my house?”

The ice in the cup rattled loudly. I turned my eyes towards the sound, and a gaze filled with endless disdain choked my neck.

“If you’re going to take out your anger, step on someone you can step on. Don’t just pick annoying bastards to step on.”

The swollen, cold tteok wouldn’t go down my throat. I couldn’t bring myself to eat anything, so I put down my fork. Why did he have to come in even while I was eating? I scratched my pants with my fingernails. He could have just told an employee, so what was his intention in coming all the way here to get ice water? He must want to torment me.

My father is jealous of me. At least, that’s what I believe. Otherwise, there’s no reason for this. I resemble my father exactly, and he’s jealous of my youth. Thinking that way made me feel at ease.

The ice water rattled his large Adam’s apple. I took my eyes off the soggy, cheap tteokbokki and looked at my father. My father drank the ice-filled water, looking down at me. His eyes were cold, as if looking at a bug. Since when did my father look at me like that? Clink. The glass was carefully placed on the dining table.

“Don’t skip meals.”

His wrinkled hand lightly tapped the rim of the glass, and the glass tilted and rolled towards me. My father seemed uninterested in where the glass went. Just like how he treats me.

His broad body exited the dining room. I just watched the glass roll. I just watched. The glass soon lost its rolling momentum and fell miserably to the floor.

I glanced at the scattered glass shards, then resumed my meal.

In a world where winter frost still lingered, I developed a hobby. Observing Kang Jun. That was the only thing that brought me joy. Kang Jun was that unique.

Kang Jun was a little famous. One known fact was that he was at the top of his class academically. I heard his grades were good enough to get into a special purpose high school. But why didn’t he go? Strange bastard. Doesn’t he have money? He doesn’t particularly look like he doesn’t.

His clothes, always unwrinkled, were clear evidence that someone was taking care of them daily. When the sunlight hit, his uniquely dark black hair shone like water flowing in a valley. His skin was also the typical texture of a child who was well-fed and well-off. So, Kang Jun has a lot of money. Then wouldn’t he live in the same neighborhood as me? That’s the only well-off neighborhood around here.

I picked up my phone and aimed the lens at Kang Jun. And without thinking, I took a picture. His protruding lips sucked a green ice cream from bottom to top. Fuck, why is he eating ice cream like that? Is he a pervert? The ticklish feeling in my stomach was annoying, so I crossed my legs. With the hand not holding the phone, I frantically rolled the rosary.

Summer, when cicadas cried. As the season arrived, summer also arrived in my body.

However, the reason he was famous wasn’t because he was good at studying. There were many smart bastards in this school. The real reason he was famous was because of that damn Han Junwoo. Han Junwoo’s flunky. A stubborn and boring guy who sticks to the currently popular Han Junwoo and thoroughly kisses his ass.

Still, he’s genuinely kind. They say it’s because he’s kind. He’s so stubborn he can’t cross the line, but he follows Han Junwoo around relentlessly. Doesn’t he seem opportunistic?

Around the time that rumor started, I got to know Kang Jun.

This time, with a slightly heated emotion, I zoomed in on the camera. The small screen held a long shot of him sucking on a popsicle. This time, it was a video.

“Well, he certainly looks like he sucks well.”

A summer so hot even the glass seemed to ripen. I held my phone with both hands and observed a male high school student eating a popsicle. Very intently.

A male high school student sucking on a melting popsicle. A fire hydrant. A cat. Ankles with clearly defined ankle bones. A male high school student who does recycling twice a week. That’s strange. Why? Once a week should be enough. Is he covering for someone? My concentration is so worthless.

A male high school student standing still, looking at the sky. There’s nothing to see there. Why would I look at something like that? It was so absurd, I looked up at the sky too. Ah. The cloud looked exactly like a whale. While I was at it, I took a picture of the clouds too.