Chapter Text
Doyoung lost his parents at the age of nine. He had nowehere to go so he was sent to the boys' home. He became such a quiet boy, the others used it against him. They threw their burden on him, knowing that Doyoung would carry them without complaining. They shoot nasty remarks to him, knowing Doyoung would just absorb them and not fight back. Doyoung thought he was a good boy, why didn't anyone from his extended family adopt him or just take care of him till he is 16 or something? The older he gets, the more he thinks about it.
He always hear his parents fighting with what he assumed were his grandparents on the phone. He often heard words like 'disowned', 'never', 'death' and many more. He fixed all the puzzle pieces and came to a conclusion that his parents got him at a young and inappropriate age and got disowned from both sides. Nevertheless, he was showered with love and his parents cared about him a lot. He knew he had an older brother but was he was aborted before he was born. Doyoung was always brought to the grave of his late-brother. Doyoung always think that he would live such a happy life with just his parents but his happy thoughts got snatched away when someone came to sabotage his father's business and set fire to his small, little, cozy home. Doyoung was hesitantly saved by the onlookers and was then sent to the boys' home.
As a child, it was traumatizing and it was what made Doyoung a very quiet child. Doyoung is now in his early teens and all he wanted to do was to quickly get to the age of 16 and get far far away from the boys' home. The boys' home wasn't what everyone had expected. It was a dark and scary place for kids to be taken care at. The workers aren't even close to nice, they force the boys to get dressed, to bathe and eat. If someone didn't followed their orders, they'll bring them to the special room and from what Doyoung heard, the special box for punishment would be taken out. The child would need to choose from the box and get his punishment. Doyoung hates the sound of it, so he avoids it at all cost. He wakes up when it's time, he bathes and brushes his teeth, he even pick on any stray rice on his plate. But he never hears the words of compliments. Unlike the workers, his parents would pat his head and give him kisses if he did his job well. Doyoung has once too many times felt the rebellion sparked in his body but he never submitted to it.
It was the usual afternoon for when the kids can have free time and play together, and try to at least get along with each other. Doyoung doesn't have friends, they make assumptions about him and his family. He hated hearing them, so he kept quiet. He sat at the corner of the playground, reading his favourite book. He was 14 and he learned almost everything that was supposed to be taught to him, by himself. He learnt to read, he learnt to write, he even learnt about different types of people and the many more possibilities out there. He thought of himself as a bright kid like how his parents used to tell him but others think he's just a free-rider and an outcast at the boys' home.
A ball hit his knee and Doyoung looks up. He pushes the ball back to the owner and continued reading his book. The ball hits Doyoung's knee again, Doyoung just pushes it back. It happened again, and again, and again. Doyoung's head snapped up, a very annoyed expression shown on his face.
The owner smirks playfully, "Can't handle a hit, weakling?"
Doyoung sighed, trying to ignore them, straightening the frown he had earlier. This time, his knee wasn't the one getting hit, instead the the ball went straight to his face. Doyoung has had enough. He closes his book and took the ball in his hands. Doyoung wasn't quite tall for his age, he also had a small and lean frame, he wasn't intimidating to the other kids. He opted to throw to ball back at them but he felt the sudden rush of anger and all the pent up frustrations reached its limit. Doyoung threw the ball with full force. He was overwhelmed with an unknown power that didn't only made him throw the ball, but he also started to thrash the play area. Doyoung became madder and madder and was blinded by his psychotic self that he picked up a gardening tool and threw it. It landed perfectly on the bully's forehead, bull's eye. The kids started to scream, the workers started coming in and the last thing Doyoung saw was his favourite book.
He woke up with a headache, probably due to the sleeping medicine they gave him earlier. He sat up to see his surroundings, despite the throbbing pain in his brain. Everything was white and he was sure it wasn't heaven, he deserved hell after what he did, but they deserved it better. He wipes the sudden dripping of blood from his cheekbone and hoped off the bed. He walked around the unknown place and met more types of people. He saw problematic kids, he saw whining adults, he saw zombie-like humans and he saw psychos. Doyoung shivered, they sent him here. They sent him to a mental hospital. Doyoung walked farther into the building, observing all the different patients. Some gave him a pity smile because a child wasn't suppose to be sent here. While others gave him a stink-eye, especially the nurses. How much have they hated their job. Doyoung felt that this is even worse than the boys' home.
Doyoung wanted to leave. Doyoung make a run for it.