"What's this?" The teacher took a wet tissue and wiped the boy's hands and arms.
"Why are there so many bruises on your hands?" The teacher also examined his face and wiped his cheeks and forehead.
"Oh my gosh, what's this?" The teacher looked shocked.
"Ah, this, that... I fell down the stairs at my house yesterday. So I hurt it like this." The boy made an excuse.
"Why didn't you tell me and rest at home? Did you get it treated? Do your parents know about this?"
"Yes, my mom already treated it. I didn't want to miss class, so I went to school anyway." The boy smiled.
"It's okay to take a day or two off. It must hurt."
"I'm sorry."
"No need to apologize." The teacher shook her head.
"But why are you covering your wounds with makeup like this? Not just bandages?"
"Ah, that... it would look ugly if you bandaged them. So I didn't want to."
"Is that so? But..." The teacher paused for a moment.
"Come with me to the infirmary, I'll bandage you." The teacher then took him to the infirmary and applied a bandage and gauze to his face and his injured arm.
But the teacher didn't know that there were wounds larger than his face and arm. His back, stomach, and legs were much more severe. The teacher would probably be very shocked if she saw them.
"Are you sure this wasn't caused by violence like bullying or something else?" The teacher remained curious.
"Yes, ma'am, it really was because I fell." The boy persisted.
"Okay then, if anything else hurts, tell me immediately."
"Okay." But compared to the wounds on his body, there was one that couldn't be healed with any medicine. The teacher, and even the boy himself, didn't know about it.
The wound in his heart.
"Son, wait a minute." Before the boy left the room, the teacher called out to him.
"You probably haven't had time to eat lunch yet. There's still time, let's eat together." The boy initially refused, but the teacher insisted. And finally, they ate together. The boy returned to his classroom and attended the lesson.
It was time to go home. On his way home, the boy saw other children being picked up by their parents. They looked happy. Sometimes, the boy imagined his parents picking him up from school like before. Taking him out to eat together. They walked until it got dark.The boy continued his journey. On his way home, he sometimes thought, if he had money, would his parents be happy? What would he do to earn money? He didn't know.
The boy arrived home. Sometimes, he felt afraid to step inside the house. But, even though he was afraid, it was still his home.
Suddenly, it rained heavily. When he entered the house, it looked like a complete mess. Only his father was sitting in the living room. Upon seeing him, his father immediately approached and threw the boy to the floor. His father kicked and beat him, shouting angrily.
"Damn! Damn! Damn! You, you and that woman are the same!!! How troublesome, so annoying!! What?! After all this, she just left, huh?! How shameless?!!"
The bandage his teacher had applied came off. The bruise that hadn't had time to heal was torn again.
Had his mother finally left him? He didn't think he was angry that she was gone. However, he at least wanted to see her one last time and say goodbye properly.
After he finished beating him, his father dragged him into his room, locked it, and left. The boy couldn't even sit up. He simply lay on the floor and curled up, tears streaming down his face.
It was unknown how much time had passed. Since his room had no windows, he didn't know if it was another day. The pain made him forget about hunger and thirst. His father hadn't come home yet. He was terrified.
He tried to reach for the doorknob and open it. But it wouldn't open. The boy lay back down on the hard cold floor and curled up again. His whole body ached terribly. He started coughing and shivering from the cold.
"So, do you hate them?"
"No, I can't hate them."
"Why?"
"Because I remember the good memories I had with them."
"But now they've left you here alone."
"I don't mind. If it makes them happy."
"Even after being treated like this?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"It's... because I love them. They're all I have in this world."
That kind and innocent child had such a beautiful heart. Love that remained even though his heart was broken.
"It's time to go now." The locked door opened.
"If I go, will I ever see my mom and dad again?"
"If fate wills it."
The child took the hand extended to him. As he emerged from the dark room, he saw the sight of his old home.
A home so warm. He saw them watching television together in the living room. Eating together at the dining table. Sometimes making a mess of the kitchen while helping his mother cook. Playing with his father. And the warmth of their embraces as they slept on cold nights.
The child no longer felt pain. The wounds on his body were gone. His hunger and thirst had also disappeared. As he was about to open the door, the child paused.
"Is there anything you want to say before you go?"
The child paused for a moment. Then he turned and looked inside the house.
"I'm sorry I left early."
"I'm sorry I always made you angry." The child had a sweet smile on his face.
"Thank you for everything. What you've done for me."
"Thank you for all the beautiful memories you've created with me."
"Even though it felt short, it meant so much to me."
"Proof that you once loved me."
"Even though I couldn't say it directly, but..." The boy began to shed tears, but he still smiled.
"I hope Mom and Dad are always happy. I love you."
"Goodbye."
The boy turned and left the house filled with memories. Memories both beautiful and painful. The ten-year-old boy no longer needed to feel pain.
"Even if fate has already been written, I will still pray for you."
"May you always smile and be happy in the next life until death takes you again."
The boy left like a star in the sky.