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Translations by Rune Translations Rune Translations Bad Life SPECIAL THANKS to Kipzi, Bloop and Thatweirdchick33 for the donations!
This chapter and next one are dedicated to you!!

Warnings

This Chapter contains despictions of :
Violence, abuse,

Volume 1

Chapter 1 Part Three

The Boys on the Top Floor

Simon, who always had a calm face, raised his eyebrows in surprise upon seeing the wounds on my body. It was kinda awkward. Since I was only wearing my underwear, I quickly put on the gown that was lying on the bed. Simon waited silently until I tied the gown's waist string. Finally, I turned around to face him, and Simon spoke in his usual blunt tone with no difference from usual.

I crossed my arms and looked at Simon. It had been almost two months since Simon and I had started sharing a room. I knew he was someone I could trust, but I was still reluctant to talk about <Jerome>.

Simon stood firm by the door, his back straight.

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I made a decision. I told Simon firmly.

We stayed in silence for a moment. I glared at Simon, feeling tense. It was not easy to read his expression. When he suddenly moved, I unknowingly took a step back.

But Simon only took out a first-aid kit from the drawer. He placed the first-aid kit on the desk and stared at me.

I couldn't refuse that kindness. No... actually, I liked that level of kindness. I gave in and took off my gown. Following Simon's gesture, I lay face down on the bed. Soon, a very warm and soft touch reached me.

He gently stroked my back, which had been whipped. There was a rustling sound, and patches were applied to the bruises. Simon carefully applied patches to my shoulders, sides, and even my stomach and thighs while I lay straight. His touch was as affectionate as a brother's, but his eyes were blunt as usual.

After applying all the patches, I grabbed Simon's arm and sat up. As I put on the gown, Simon didn't say a word. He left the room without a word, and when he returned, he brought breakfast for both of us on a tray. Simon and I ate without exchanging a single word, but the air between us was definitely different from usual. Through the secret, we had become closer.

During the weekend, none of the boys in our room went out. Instead, we sat around the living room, doing homework and eating together. However, at four o'clock in the afternoon, <Jerome> came to visit without fail. <Jerome> and I exchanged glances but didn't greet each other. He played chess with Hugh and had a conversation with George about a computer program that I couldn't understand.

Meanwhile, I watched TV dramas with Simon in the living room and played darts. I wasn't very good at it, but Simon's dart skills were downright terrible. He lost five games in a row and quit. <Jerome> didn't even glance at me, let alone try to talk to me, until he left at six o'clock.

Since the weather kept being sunny and warm, we didn't stay cooped up in the dormitory. Although George always sat on the sofa, Hugh, Simon, and I went for walks. Simon guided us to the forest where he usually jogged.

Following the course, it led deep into the forest and reached the <Kelly> swamp. I liked Simon's jogging course because it was quiet and secluded, with few people around. After the walk, Simon and Hugh played a few games of tennis. Since I didn't know how to play tennis, I sat in the stands and watched.

It was surprisingly peaceful. However, I didn't let my guard down like a fool. I didn't forget about proper <revenge> either. If <Jerome> thought I would leave him alone just because he didn't approach me, he was greatly mistaken. I always pay back what I receive. The same went for my business with <Jerome>.
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If possible, I wanted to take revenge with his riding crop. It would be a very satisfying and pleasant thing to do. There would be no greater humiliation for <Jerome>. I wanted to see if he could still smile like that after being hit with his own riding crop.

Before I knew it, a new week had begun. While watching <Jerome> horse riding through the school window, I finally found a clue for my revenge.

It rained on Tuesday. The weather perfectly matched my plan. I was in a good mood since this morning. When I came out after washing up, I saw Simon waiting in the room. Ever since witnessing the wounds, Simon applied patches to my bruises every morning after I finished bathing. He seemed puzzled by my unusually excited demeanor, but as always, he didn't ask. Throughout the day, time passed too slowly and suffocatingly.

As soon as the last class, the boring math, ended, I immediately ran to the stable. The inside of the stable was damp and humid due to the rain, kinda suffocating. I didn't care about the humidity. I grabbed a sharp stick and hid behind a pile of straw at the stable entrance.

<Jerome> always rode horses even when it rains, wearing a raincoat. He would definitely come. It was only one o'clock in the afternoon. He usually started horseback riding around two o'clock. When he rode out on his horse, I planned to poke the horse's butt with the stick. If <Jerome> fell off the horse and got trampled to death? That wouldn't happen, but if such an unfortunate event occurred, I would apologize in advance. Anyway, my plan wasn't to kill <Jerome>.

In the meantime, I had noticed one of <Jerome's> habits while observing his horseback riding. Even when <Jerome> didn't use the riding crop on the horse, he always held one in his hand while riding. When he falls off, he will surely drop the crop. Rather than picking up the crop first, he will either run away from the scared horse or try to calm the horse down. At that moment, I intend to snatch the crop. And thanks to the fog in the schoolyard due to the rain, I will give <Jerome> a humiliating lesson with the crop he used on me to my heart's content.

The plan went smoothly. Waiting for <Jerome> was not a problem at all. As soon as the bell rang to announce two o'clock in the afternoon, <Jerome> appeared in the stable. As expected, no one came to the stables because of the rain, so he was alone. I held my breath and watched <Jerome> from behind the pile of straw. <Jerome> put on stiff leather gaiters, wore a vinyl jacket, and put on a hat. As he took out his horse and mounted it, my neck became stiff with tension.

<Jerome's> horse slowly walked towards the entrance. My heart seemed to pound in time with the clopping sound of the hooves. The horse brushed past the pile of straw as if nothing had happened. The opportunity was too easy to miss. Without hesitation, I jabbed the stick into the horse's firm and large butt as it passed in front of me.

The horse cried out in pain and reared up on its front legs. Caught off guard, <Jerome> slipped and fell from the saddle. As the horse neighed and ran into the rainy schoolyard, I also pounced on <Jerome>, who was buried in the mud. That's when it happened.

<Jerome> lashed his crop fiercely across my chest.

<I wondered where you were hiding, but here you are, Raymond

As I fell into the mud with a painful thud, <Jerome's> cheerful laughter rang out more vividly than the pain. How the hell did he find out?!

Being whipped before was like candy compared to this. <Jerome> sat in the mud and mercilessly lashed his riding crop across my chest. I felt my skin tearing. Even as I collapsed into the mud, unable to scream, only one question filled my mind. How did <Jerome> find out? No one knew about the relationship between <Jerome> and me. No one knew about the plan I had made to take revenge on <Jerome>. I had never even spoken it out loud!

I writhed in the mud, overwhelmed by pain and questions. It felt like my chest was on fire. I looked down at my school uniform shirt, but no blood was visible. It seemed that my skin hadn't been torn, but the pain was beyond anything I had ever imagined. The pain seemed to make not only my vision but also my mind flicker in darkness. However, cruelly, the whipping did not end with just one strike.

The damn riding crop lashed precisely three times across my chest, lower abdomen, and between my thighs. When it struck between my thighs, I thought it was aiming for my penis and almost fainted. The crop whipped the inside of my thigh, very close to my genitals. Naturally, I couldn't even breathe properly from the pain and trembled in the mud. Contrary to my plan, <Jerome> stood tall in front of me without taking any hits.

With tears streaming down my face, I glared at <Jerome>, filled with hatred. <Jerome> slowly bent down and closely examined my face. Ah, <Jerome> was smiling again.

<Engaging in such a dangerous act.>
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<Jerome> spoke in a tone devoid of any anger.

<Raymond. Keep this in mind. You shouldn't touch my horse. Understand?>

I didn't even have the strength to answer. It felt like the pain had stolen my voice.

<Jerome> continued.

<Jerome> brushed my cheek with the leather loop at the end of the whip.

With those final words, <Jerome> walked away and disappeared. It took a long time for me to get back on my feet. However, more than the pain, I felt an agonizing ache throughout my body due to the humiliation and shame.

I was covered in mud from head to toe. I was so cold that my teeth chattered. As I entered the dormitory, hugging my arms and shivering, the gruff dormitory supervisor noticed me and raised an eyebrow. Fortunately, he didn't call out to me. I walked upstairs, dripping mud and rainwater on the thick, expensive carpet. I dragged my feet, opened the door to my room, and found all three boys gathered in front of the fireplace.

George was typing on his laptop as usual, while Simon and Hugh were reading books. Both George and Hugh's eyes widened when they saw me. However, only Simon remained seated, looking at me with an inscrutable expression.

George was the first to ask.

Hugh jumped up and approached me. He found my appearance amusing but asked kindly.

<No. I want to wash up right away.>

I shook my head, and Hugh, who couldn't guess that I had been whipped, grinned and quickly stepped aside.

Despite being careful, I left traces of mud and rainwater behind me. The air was warm thanks to the lit fireplace, but my cold body couldn't easily recover. As I entered the bathroom and crouched down in the bathtub without even taking off my clothes, there was a knock on the door.

Before I could answer, the door opened, and Simon entered. We looked at each other. Simon stubbornly closed the door and locked it.

Simon said bluntly.

<......>

Simon approached me. I silently looked at Simon, still shivering from the cold, looking like a drowned rat. Simon brushed away the wet hair sticking to my forehead. His touch was surprisingly warm.

<That's not true. You need help.>

I was too weak now to refuse Simon's help. A sense of helplessness against <Jerome> was weighing down my entire body. How did <Jerome> find out? Was <Jerome> really an opponent I couldn't defeat? That couldn't be. <Jerome> was just a boy who had barely turned twenty, just like me. There must have been some mistake this time. I must have touched something wrong while hiding in the haystack, and <Jerome>, who was more familiar with the stable than anyone else, must have sensitively noticed that change.

The stable was like <Jerome>'s home ground, so to speak. Fighting there meant I had to be much more careful than usual. I was overconfident because I had set up an ambush. As a result, I was beaten by <Jerome>. New wounds appeared on my chest, lower abdomen, and between my legs. Especially the one between my legs was humiliating.

I quietly watched as Simon unbuttoned my soaking wet school shirt one by one. Soon, Simon opened his mouth in horror at the sight of my bare upper body.

I was as shocked by my body as Simon was. The whip marks on my chest and lower abdomen were vivid. With trembling hands, I took off my pants to check. It was the same between my thighs. The bright red skin was slightly grazed, forming a thin, reddish scab. However, <Jerome>, being so meticulous, had whipped me without even drawing a single drop of blood.

Simon shook his head resolutely.

I gritted my teeth and looked down at my bruised body. These were all injuries that had occurred over the past two weeks. My shoulder was hit by a curtain rod, my solar plexus and ribs were kicked, and my lower abdomen, the area between my legs, and my thighs were struck by a whip. Every part where <Jerome> had inflicted violence bore bruises that had turned a disgusting color. However, I didn't lose my composure. The humiliation and shame I had suffered were too intense to lose my composure.

I glared at Simon in front of me.

Simon nodded.

Those words hurt my pride, but Simon was right. Since I hadn't been able to properly counterattack <Jerome> even once so far, it wasn't wrong to say that I had been subjected to one-sided assault by him.
Simon's voice, as he tried to make sense of the situation, was also trembling slightly. He seemed to be in shock. Simon, who was usually calm, had a look of shock and even a kind of fear in his dark eyes. That's how shocking and intense the traces of violence left on my body were.

But I had shed that fear Simon was showing a few weeks ago. I got out of the bathtub, stood up straight in front of Simon, and said coldly.

<Okay. If you want to help me, do it.>

Simon flinched at the cold voice.

The bathroom fell silent. Simon looked at me with a confused face and eventually lowered his head. He stood there, unusually with his shoulders slumped, burying his face in both hands without saying a word. After standing like that for a while, as if in a standoff, Simon was the first to move.

Simon tightly shut his mouth and began filling the bathtub with hot water. The warm steam quickly filled the bathroom. Thanks to that, my frozen body seemed to warm up just a little. Simon, who had filled the bathtub with water, turned to look at me. The meaning was clear.

I poured water over my body once and got into the bathtub. Suddenly, a warm heat rose all over my body, making me shiver involuntarily. The water stung as it touched the newly formed wounds. Simon sat on the edge of the bathtub and quietly looked at me.

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Simon said softly.

Simon stayed in the bathroom and helped me bathe. I was a little worried about what Hugh and George outside might think, but since Simon's assistance was nice and comfortable, I decided to put aside my minor concerns. His touch was as skillful as a real caregiver. When I couldn't resist my curiosity and asked, <How are you so good at this?> Simon didn't answer.

When we came out after finishing the bath, George and Hugh looked at us. Hugh jokingly asked.

Surprisingly, Simon answered.

Simon, who gave a brief reply, went into the room first. Having nothing to add, I just shrugged my shoulders at Hugh. Hugh seemed a little flustered but didn't pry further. George didn't even join the conversation.

Following Simon into the room, he had already taken out the first-aid kit. At his gesture, I took off my bathrobe and lay awkwardly on the bed. The newly formed wounds had scabs on them, so Simon applied ointment instead of putting on patches. The awkward situation didn’t stand for long. I quickly got used to the kind and gentle touch and just leisurely stared at the ceiling.

Simon was skilled at both bathing others and treating wounds. Even when I asked him why, he wouldn't answer. Like other students attending this school, Simon might also have a complicated past. Just then, Simon suddenly brought his face close to my line of sight.

<Raymond. Just a moment... Your legs.>

<Ah. Right. Sorry.>

The new wound <Jerome> had made between my thighs was dangerously close to my genitals. I might have been whipped on my penis if I hadn't been careful. Recalling that horrible moment sent a chill down my spine. Shuddering, I spread my legs for Simon. A careful touch reached between my thighs. He gently applied ointment to the wound and attached gauze. Having finished the treatment, Simon tidied up the first-aid kit and got up. As I listened to him opening and closing drawers, I said.

Instead of answering, Simon stared into my eyes and then quietly left the room. A moment later, there seemed to be the sound of conversation in the living room, but it soon fell silent.

I took out new clothes, put them on, and stood by the window. The window faced the forest, so all that could be seen were trees and forest paths. Staring at the forest with cold eyes, I dwelled on the wounds throbbing with pain on my chest, lower abdomen, and between my legs. <Jerome>. <Jerome>. <Jerome>!

Ding.

The clock in the living room struck the hour. I looked at my wristwatch. It was four o'clock in the afternoon. The sound of someone knocking could be heard, and even the sound of Hugh welcoming them at the door came through from beyond the room.

I took my gaze off the window. Opening the door and going out into the living room, <Jerome> stopped as he was walking towards the fireplace with Hugh. His black hair was wet, he had changed out of his riding clothes into casual attire, and he had no riding crop in his hand. <Jerome> saw me and grinned.

<Hello, Raymond.>

<Hello, Jerome.>

Returning the greeting, I strode up to him.

Even <Jerome> couldn't have anticipated it this time. With Simon, Hugh, and George all watching, I punched <Jerome> without hesitation. Thanks to punching his cheek with all my strenght, <Jerome>'s head spun around, and he even fell onto the carpeted floor.

I approached the fallen boy and kicked his solar plexus with the tip of my shoe. As <Jerome> groaned and curled up, I stomped on his side with my heel as hard as I could. Hugh, who came to his senses belatedly, held my waist and tried to stop me.

Hugh shouted in a panic.

<Raymond, my goodness, why are you suddenly doing this? Are you out of your mind?>

I let myself be restrained without resisting as Hugh tried to stop me. <Jerome> must have never dreamed that I would lunge at him here. We had never revealed our feelings for each other in front of others. But then, what reason was there not to?

Simon's words about informing the principal had given me a hint. There was no reason to hide it in front of others. <Jerome> certainly wouldn't have expected it. Wouldn't this also be a splendid surprise attack! <Jerome>, who had been kicked in the solar plexus, coughed violently and barely managed to sit up. I stared at <Jerome> with the most vile smile I could muster while being held by Hugh. Finally, when <Jerome> raised his head, he was, again, smiling.

The one who wasn't in his right mind wasn't me, but that bastard. It was no surprise. I knew better than anyone else that he was crazy.

While everyone was frozen, Simon moved. He supported <Jerome> and sat him on the sofa. <Jerome> laughed even while gasping for breath from the pain. Simon glanced at me slyly. He seemed surprised but also had a calm attitude. At that moment, Simon realized where the wounds he had been treating for the past few weeks had come from.

When I stood still obediently, Hugh loosened the grip on his arms that had been holding me tightly. However, he still had his arms wrapped around my waist, probably worried that I might lunge at <Jerome> again.

George, the only one who hadn't moved a finger in this mess, broke the silence.

<Wow.>

After a short exclamation, George asked.

<Raymond. Did <Jerome> push you into a mud puddle or something?>

I turned my head towards George. Looking into his pale blue eyes, I shook my head.

<No. That was my mistake.>

Hugh, who was caught in the middle, asked with a still dumbfounded look.

Instead of answering, I turned my words to <Jerome>, who was catching his breath.

<<Jerome> will give you that answer.>

Everyone's gaze turned to <Jerome>. <Jerome>'s cheeks were flushed red, and his wet hair was clinging to his forehead in a disheveled manner. He smiled shyly. It was absurd. <Jerome> had a shy smile on his face! There was no face more ridiculous than that expression on <Jerome>. With that shy face, <Jerome> said innocently.

<It's a secret between us.>

Even George alternated between looking at <Jerome> and me with a dumbfounded expression. After glaring at Jerome in disbelief, I untangled Hugh's arms from my waist. Hugh must have been scared because he held my waist tightly for a moment, but when he realized I was just trying to get away, he let go. I left them all in the living room and left the room altogether.

It was that night when I lay in bed. I was blinking my eyes in the darkness. I waited for Simon to say something first. Simon seemed to be waiting for me to speak first. What was clear was that the silence lingering in the room now was different from the usual one before falling asleep. It was a breath that seemed ready to engage in conversation at any moment. Simon couldn't break my stubbornness.

<I'm skilled at nursing because I used to do that kind of stuff a lot.>

I asked, as if I had been waiting for the abrupt words.

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<I'm sorry to hear that.>

<It's okay. We weren't close friends. Just... friends, that's all.>

The question Simon threw at me was different from what I expected, thinking it would be about <Jerome>.

<...I didn't expect you to ask about that. It's exactly as I said. My mother kept me locked up for 5 years.>

<Why?>

<......>

<That's all.>

<I'm sorry.>

<Yeah. Thanks. Anything else?>

<No.>

In the end, Simon didn't ask about <Jerome>. That's how the conversation ended. We exchanged good night greetings and fell asleep.

But it seemed Simon hadn't forgotten about <Jerome>. The next day at four in the afternoon, <Jerome> came to visit without fail, with a brazen face. We had left the door open, so <Jerome> walked right into the room without needing to knock. He was wearing a neat school uniform instead of riding clothes, and his hair was slicked back with pomade.

When <Jerome> appeared, Hugh looked at me with a tense face. There was an awkward silence for a moment. Simon, who had been reading a book, got up from the sofa. He looked at <Jerome> with calm eyes and said.

<I'm sorry, <Jerome>. If you haven't made up with Raymond yet, I'd prefer if you refrained from visiting here.>

Simon added in a quiet tone,

<Jerome> stared at Simon without answering, then turned around and left the room.

At that moment, I realized that <Jerome> was not close to anyone in this room. <Jerome> was merely reigning over this room like some kind of authority figure. He was not particularly close to any of the boys living in this room and was somewhat of an uncomfortable presence to all of them.

As proof, no one stopped <Jerome> as he left the room. As soon as <Jerome> turned around, Simon sat back down on the sofa and started reading again. Only George gave a meaningful glance over his laptop. Hugh sighed and playfully looked at me.

I shrugged. I was about to turn my gaze to the paper I was writing on, but I looked at Simon. Simon felt my gaze and briefly lifted his head. Staring directly into my eyes, without any gestures or words, he turned his gaze back to the pages of the book. It was a calm afternoon. Seconds later, the sound of <Jerome> closing the door after returning to the right corridor was heard.

The peaceful days continued until Friday. Since I had already given <Jerome> a beating, I stayed quiet for now. It will be okay to make a new once my wounds heal enough. More than anything, I felt relieved that I had someone on my side. In the 5 years since my father's death, there was no one I felt was on my side. However, Simon was an exception. It seemed okay to say that he was on my side.

The rain that started on Tuesday finally stopped on Friday morning. The sky was clear after it finished raining, and now that it was June, the days darkened later. After finishing dinner, Simon and I put on our boots and went for a walk.

We walked along Simon's jogging course in the forest. As always, Simon, who was walking with a straight posture, turned to look at me with a straight face. I was a little surprised to see the unmistakably worried look in his eyes.

Simon spoke with difficulty.

<I'm planning to go out on the weekend.>

When he said that with such a worried expression, I felt ridiculously relieved. Crossing the slippery and muddy grass due to the rain, I casually replied,

Simon didn't seem to like that answer.

When I replied playfully, Simon closed his mouth. As he quickened his pace, I couldn't help but laugh. It was cute that Simon was worried about me. And I quite liked it. As I said before, no one had worried about me or taken my side since my father died. This feeling was something I hadn't experienced in a long time. I felt so good that I almost forgot my anger towards <Jerome>. I leisurely followed behind Simon who was walking ahead.

The weather in early June was not only sunny and clear but also humid. Summer had finally arrived in Bluebell, where people suffered from the cold weather for about 9 months out of the year, and it drove everyone out of school over the weekend.

The school was even quieter than last week. Hugh went out with his friends to the swimming pool at the Gorun Hotel. George didn't go out, but he sat by the living room window with his legs stretched out and read a book with the window wide open. As he mentioned on Friday, Simon also went out. Since I didn't ask where he was going, I didn't know his destination.

Thanks to that, Saturday afternoon was quieter than ever. I was also sitting by another window in the living room, reading Brontë. It was two o'clock in the afternoon. Through the window, I spotted <Jerome> riding a horse to go horseback riding. He was dressed much more lightly than usual. Wearing a loose shirt with three or four buttons undone, he sat comfortably on the saddle, stroking the horse's mane as he entered the forest. I watched <Jerome> until he was no longer visible.

It seemed that George had been observing me closely.

I turned my gaze to George. He always looked cynical due to his unusually pale blue eyes and pale skin. It was the same right now.

George answered dryly. Looking at his thin legs stretched out on the carpet, I slowly spoke,

<That's right. There isn't. And you also said that the guys who gather at this school are all like me.>

George had no reaction to my words. He just stared at me quietly, his blue eyes shining strangely. At first, his gaze was sometimes unberarable and suspicious, but now I knew. That George was also a flawed human being just like me. We were all in the same situation, exiled and trapped here, abandoned not only by our parents but also by the whole world.
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<Jerome> would be no exception to that.

My relationship with George could not be considered bad. We were distant but had a lot of conversations, and we especially had dinner together most of the time. George was not someone who restrained his emotions like Simon. However, he also didn't fully reveal all his emotions like Hugh. When he was angry or in a bad mood, he had a somewhat sullen attitude but quickly found his own compromise, and when he was in a good mood, although it wasn't outwardly apparent, the atmosphere of the conversation became gentle.

He wasn't the type to voluntarily reveal everything, but he also never avoided questions or intentionally created secrets. Conversations with George were fast-paced, and direct. It was okay to ask him anything.

However, questions always had to be careful. Questions revealed what I was curious about. They could infer what I was curious about, why I was curious about it, and therefore what I was thinking about right now.

Conversations with George often led to a series of questions and answers. There was a fast-paced and honest aspect to it, but the conversations didn't last long. Because both George and I were wary of each other. We didn't want to reveal more to each other.

Today, we engaged in the conversation more combatively than ever. After having an early dinner, George and I were slowly walking around the school grounds where the heat had subsided a bit. George's words flying at me were almost violent.

<If you're thinking of turning <Jerome> into an enemy, you should know that no one at this school is on your side.>

George said, snapping a branch with tiny leaves on both sides. I also snapped a branch next to him and asked,

<Why? Because of <Jerome>'s status?>

<That's not entirely wrong. You probably know by now how much special treatment <Jerome> receives. You must have also figured out the real reason about why he has a room to himself.>

<Yeah. The excuse about not having enough students was an obvious lie, George.>

George shrugged his shoulders in response to my teasing retort.

<Anyways, that room was really used by royalty. It's the largest and most luxurious. According to <Jerome>, there are even hidden rooms, so the school probably didn't want to give it to ordinary students like us. But that's not what I meant.>
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<Then what did you mean?>

<You've been at this school for less than two months. You know nothing about the atmosphere and flow of the school.>

George plucked the leaves one by one.

I said briefly.

At that moment, George seemed weird. He held the plucked leaves in his hand and stared at me with great interest. It was a bizarre expression. George stared at me blankly like that and continued.

There was a flaw in that statement. My opponent was only <Jerome>, so why could everyone become my enemy? Just because they don't help me? I argued back.

<Just because they don't help me doesn't mean I can call them my enemies. My only enemy is <Jerome>, and the only one I'm fighting against is <Jerome>. Those who don't fight with me are not my enemies.>

<You're wrong.>

George retorted sharply.

I also answered firmly.

George said, shaking the branch with all the leaves plucked off. He tossed the unsightly branch towards the forest.

I still didn't agree with George's words. George also looked at my face and realized what I was thinking. However, we no longer argued with each other. Instead, we walked a few steps in silence. The sun was setting beyond the forest. The burning red sunset was dazzling. George stopped walking after looking at the sunset.
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<The moment you feel that indifference and ignorance are violence, everyone in this school will turn into an enemy. By then, it will be too late.>

George said dryly. Instead of answering, I just quietly stared up at him, who was about half a hand taller than me. The silence didn't last long.

<I'm going inside now.>

George said, looking at his wristwatch.

I also looked at my wristwatch. It was now almost seven o'clock in the evening.

<I'll walk for a little longer.>

George nodded and turned his body towards the dormitory. After watching his back for a while, I moved my feet in the opposite direction. Although it had rained during the weekdays, the lawn was dry and crisp now that it was the weekend. I headed towards Simon's jogging course, where we often took walks. If I walked straight this way, I would reach the marsh <Kelly>.

I had been to <Kelly> a few times while walking with Simon or Hugh. <Kelly> was about a 30-minute walk from the entrance of the forest. Although the path to <Kelly> was flat and covered with grass, making it easy to walk, very few people walked all the way to <Kelly>. After visiting <Kelly>, I could understand why.

The <Kelly> marsh was larger than I thought and gloomier and more depressing than I imagined. Not a single water bird perched on the reeds tangled in the muddy water, and the surface of the marsh was covered with fallen leaves and decaying foliage to the point where it was unclear where the marsh began and ended.

The trees surrounding the marsh uniformly had long, drooping branches hanging towards the marsh, and sometimes it was so eerie that it seemed like a ghost would pop out from between them. In particular, if you fell into the water, you would never be able to get out on your own. Simon and Hugh also warned me several times to be careful of the wet ground.

Despite all those points, I liked <Kelly>. To be precise, I liked the path to <Kelly>. Above all, it was quiet and rarely visited by people, so there was very little chance of being afraid of someone or feeling uncomfortable. Simon, who often walked with me to <Kelly>, was also the only person I liked at this school.

As I slowly walked, I thought about Simon. Simon was a good guy. I should now honestly admit that I liked him. At first, I thought Simon was an oddball. It was because of his somewhat cold demeanor, not because of his appearance that was strange.

Simon was handsome. He had distinct eyebrows, deep black eyes, and a good physique. He always kept his clothes neat and tidy, paid attention to his behavior, and was knowledgeable about manners, but if there was a downside, it was that his personality was pretty blunt and he spoke very little.

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Brontë : The sisters, Charlotte (1816–1855), Emily (1818–1848) and Anne (1820–1849), are well-known poets and novelists.

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