Pools of murky water fill holes and indentions on the streets, their contents often forced outwards by cars running through the puddles as they race down the narrow streets. It had rained earlier, and this was obvious to the dark haired male walking with his back the setting sun, even though he had spent most of the day in bed. Despite this, there were dark circles under his eyes due to countless sleepless nights. He was never truly asleep, but never truly awake either. His bed failed to serve any use these days. He walked throughout the night only to return home and turn on the television, not absorbing a word said. On the weekends, he would often lie on the couch, not bothering to get dressed or leave his apartment, which was better groomed than him. His clothes were dingy and his eyes were bloodshot. It would not be surprising if the only substance put into his body was alcohol, as of lately. He had cut his hair short weeks ago, no longer wishing to bother with it.
He veered from the sidewalk into the street towards the other side. A horn blared as he was bathed in light, before he was shoved violently to the side, somehow still on his feet. His head spun and colors danced in his eyes and across the face of the man who had pulled him backwards. Heavy hands rested on his shoulders as the man asked if he was okay, his voice distant, but audible. Mumbling a reply, he shrugged the man’s hands off and turned when the man caught his arm, pulling his ear to his lips. “Korea is no longer safe for you,” he whispered so that even a blind man would have known he grinned as he spoke. Still in a daze, the dark haired creator stared absently as the man proceeded to climb into the passenger seat of the car and drove away. Not a single car drove down the road nor was there a single person around as he stood in shock in the middle of the street.
He ran home, sprinting until the muscles in his legs burned and they threatened to tear away from the bone. His lungs stretched to hold the humid summer air, begging to break through his chest just to take in a larger breath. In a distant portion of his mind, he pictured his sternum cracking and ribs buckling as his lungs grew larger. Puddles of water with rainbows of grease floating at the surface soaked his dingy shoes and sprayed his ankles. At the door to the apartment, he stood, clinging to the door handle, gasping for breath like a dying man gasping for life. For a moment, his sight was impaired by a rushing darkness over his eyes, but he ran without pause into the building, all the way up the stairs.
                                *      *      *
Weeks ago, he had been contacted by a college in the United States with an offer for him to come teach and research at the college. Until now, he had thought little of it, but now, his mind was made up. He would be leaving Korea immediately. Perhaps for some it would be ridiculous to leave after such an incident, but the male’s paranoia had taken over all rationality he had left. He would be gone by morning, have an apartment within days, and a job soon after. IX would receive his resignation within hours, and it was unlikely that anyone would ever see him again. It would seem that he had disappeared into thin air, leaving no trace of himself.
The male’s life tended to be this way: stable one day and thrown into chaos the next, yet he remains unaffected by this sudden loss of the people he knew, the job he had, and the way he lived, as there was far too much for him to do for him to worry about anyone or anything. Perhaps months later, he will remember what was left behind, but by then, he will be too far gone for any of it to matter.
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