I didn't feel like doing Genetics and it was raining so I thought "Why not ?"
People tell me that they believe in love at first sight. That when you first set eyes on someone – your destined person, then you’ll know you two were meant to be. Its fate, they say, a beautiful thing that happens to only a handful of us. Trust your instincts; trust your heart.
Seeing is believing.
Yet what is gold, what glitters to you and I maybe dirt – terrible inside. It may be a nightmare lurking in the depths of a sweet dream, waiting; watching.
One is most vulnerable when you feel safe, protected.
This is my story – my oneshot of a beautiful boy. A human like any other. He was breathtaking, brilliant and most of all – he was my Pyrite.
I had always loved bright clothes. Especially yellow colors, with the exception of black. It made me feel like the sun, or maybe sunflower which saw which every way. Like the delicate bud, thriving on light, in order to survive, I thrived on laughter; happiness which emitted from the times I’ve spent with others. I remembered that day perfectly the day he captivated my sight – stole my heart from my chest. I never even offered to him. That day was a mid-summers day. I had been strolling down a side walk, papers in one hand, while a pen in the other. I had been trying to get donations for the local pet shelter not far from where we had met. I remember looking every which way and right until I spotted you. You, who was bent over a little table from outside the little small coffee shop, a book in hand, and oversize black glasses just barely hanging on to the bridge of your nose. Kiseop. I still remembered his – your name.
Sure, I thought you were beautiful, serene at first. I’d even managed to sum up the courage to walk up to you to ask for a donation. But you never responded to me. You were too caught up in your book, and at that time, I thought that was cute. Little did I know that getting your attention caused the first domino to fall. Maybe if I could, I’d change all that. Maybe. But part of me still doesn’t want to, because even through all that. All the lies, all the pain you offered me, there was still – is still a place in my heart for you. Even if it’s an inkling of emotions, it’s still there.
“Will you donate some money to the local human society? It’ll help save the animals, and allow them to be able to move to a new home.” I had said, as I attempted to not make eye contact.
“Yes,” You had said. But I barely noticed. I was too flustered in your presence. You had to ask for my clipboard, causing me to turn bright red. Kiseop chuckled at me, and it was…nice and airy. Like the sultry wind, but I didn’t tell him - you that. It was too embarrassing. When you had finished signing, I had already snatched the board back and left; too embarrassed to turn back.
Only when I came home did I notice something odd about your signature.
You had given me your number.
Everything took off from there for the better and the worse.
The first four months were filled with bliss. We held hands, kissed, and you even went with me to volunteer at the local pet shelter. My co-workers had loved you - enough to tease us about marriage. I had to shoo them away in embarrassment while your soft laughter played in the background. I still recall the day where we had decided to travel to Busan for a few days. You and I, we made a promise to one another. You had told me that you loved me, that I was the one. It was the first time you’ve ever said something like that. And I was shocked, really shocked – to the point where it evoked tears. But you held me in your arms. Your hand slowly stroked the back of my head. You lips pressed against my forehead. “I love you,” You breathed into my skin, causing me to shiver. “I love you.”
That was the day I decided to move in with you, and the final day of our happiness.
One the first day in your apartment I had already noticed it empty. You had only a bed, and a few utensils. You had told me that you don’t like spending on excessive things because you lived alone – and I believed you. I followed you like a lost puppy, followed your words like a fool.
A week later, you slowly began to change. Your words became more brutal, and at times, you’d come back at the crack of dawn. When I had asked you where you were you had said “I was at work. Something at the company came up.”
And then it hit me, the day you came home drunk, reeking of cologne and expensive perfume. Bright lipstick was still smothered on your face. “Where we you?” I had demanded, my voice raising as my suspicions were confirmed. “Why is there lipstick on your face? Yah! Are you listening to me? Kiseop!”
Suddenly I felt pain, the impact of your hand across my face. But you didn’t stop there. No, you kept going. Even when I was curled up against the floor, begging, groaning in pain, you continued. And while you beat me, you were laughing. “Feel that? This is love.” You had snarled. With a hand full of my hair, you had yanked my face towards yours. I could smell the stench of alcohol in your when you spoke. “My my my.” You sang, “You’re so much prettier like this; Sprawled out on the floor. Would you like to know a secret?” Wet lips was pressed against my ear, “I haven’t been loving you since that day. But now,” You slammed my face back onto the carpet. “I think my feelings are coming back.” I screamed for help, as I tried to claw away from your reach. “Shut up!”
The next morning you were gone. You had left a note saying that you would be home late, and that you were sorry for what happened. But I was done. I was scared. I ran away.
Two days later, I had heard from one of my coworkers that you were looking for me. You had told them that I had ran away with all your money and belonging. You told them I was a criminal, someone to be reported. But that was a lie. You were the criminal. You stole my everything. My heart, my feelings – my light. That night, I cried until I could cry no more. I cried until the tears couldn’t come out. My fingers dugged into my chest as if it was trying to claw out the beating heart which held only pain now.
“He was a con-man. Kiseop had already swindled five women and still to this day, no one knows where the last two women he had conned are. You’re lucky to be alive,” My boss had told me one day about you. He had your past dugged up by professional because he pitied me. He couldn’t stand seeing me looking like a withered flower every day. “Move on, Pyeonji. He was a dangerous man.”
With a pat on the shoulder, he left me alone. “Pyrite.” Was the only word I described you, remembering the time you had asked me to describe you with one word. At that time, I couldn’t think of a perfect word. You were too surreal. Too faultless to describe with just one description. But now – after all this I know. “You’re my Pyrite Gold.”