Cinderella's tears
The boy lay in bed, in a fetal position, whimpering, crying. Another pang, another punch in the guts. So he clutched his stomach even more tightly.
He shouldn’t have eaten that box of chicken, left in the fridge from last week’s dinner. Even if he did, he should have made sure he heated it up thoroughly, he thought.
He stifled another whimper which threatened to escape up his throat.
Not that it mattered. He was alone in the room. In the dorm, in fact.
-
His favourite childhood fairytale had been Cinderella. The idea of a glass slipper intrigued him.
How could someone ever make a pair of shoes out of glass? That would have to be a very special pair of shoes for a very special someone.
Well, it’s because the prince loved Cinderella very much, he remembered his mother’s gentle explanation.
But, how? He didn’t know her then!
Because he knew this girl, or boy, his mother added very pointedly, whose feet could fit this pair of shoes, was the girl made for him. That they were meant to be, because it’s written in the stars.
Oh, he had said, after a moment of awed silence.
No more questions for now, it’s past your bedtime. Goodnight dear, sweet dreams.
That night, he dreamt that someone crafted a similar pair for him. Except of course, it was a pair of sneakers; after all, he was a boy.
But he was Jinki after all. And Jinki was clumsy at times.
He kept quiet, head bowed, barely feeling the tears roll down his cheeks, yet acutely aware of the dull ache and stinging aftermath as the tears left his eyes.
The other boy in the dressing room emitted a dangerous, angry vibe.
“Look Jinki, just stop it, okay? Stop this whole guilt trip. Things don’t work out. That’s how reality is.”
He just continued staring at his fingers, which seemed to have been possessed by some maniac, nervous energy, intent on knotting themselves.
This only made the other boy angrier.
“Just stop it! This isn’t a fairytale, okay?” The boy spat, before turning on his heel and exiting the room with an angry slam of the door.
He often wondered why Cinderella had to go home by twelve, why she had a midnight curfew. It seemed so arbitrary to him.
Why couldn’t she stay out all night?
Jinki didn’t understand that fairytales don’t last forever. Eventually, they come to an end.
“Hyung, I’m sure he didn’t mean it… let me go talk to - “
He pieced together whatever was left of him to form the semblance of a smile.
“No, it’s ok. I’m sure he did.”
And glass shoes break. Glass shoes smash into smithereens.
But, he wondered, don’t Cinderella’s tears matter anymore?
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inspiration again. =) this time, from the first line of this song's chorus.
*gasp* i just realized two of jinki's loves failed him here. minho caused him heartache, and chicken caused him a tummyache. /irrelevant
comments would be appreciated. =) i realize a sudden dearth of comments. =(
He shouldn’t have eaten that box of chicken, left in the fridge from last week’s dinner. Even if he did, he should have made sure he heated it up thoroughly, he thought.
He stifled another whimper which threatened to escape up his throat.
Not that it mattered. He was alone in the room. In the dorm, in fact.
-
His favourite childhood fairytale had been Cinderella. The idea of a glass slipper intrigued him.
How could someone ever make a pair of shoes out of glass? That would have to be a very special pair of shoes for a very special someone.
Well, it’s because the prince loved Cinderella very much, he remembered his mother’s gentle explanation.
But, how? He didn’t know her then!
Because he knew this girl, or boy, his mother added very pointedly, whose feet could fit this pair of shoes, was the girl made for him. That they were meant to be, because it’s written in the stars.
Oh, he had said, after a moment of awed silence.
No more questions for now, it’s past your bedtime. Goodnight dear, sweet dreams.
That night, he dreamt that someone crafted a similar pair for him. Except of course, it was a pair of sneakers; after all, he was a boy.
But he was Jinki after all. And Jinki was clumsy at times.
He kept quiet, head bowed, barely feeling the tears roll down his cheeks, yet acutely aware of the dull ache and stinging aftermath as the tears left his eyes.
The other boy in the dressing room emitted a dangerous, angry vibe.
“Look Jinki, just stop it, okay? Stop this whole guilt trip. Things don’t work out. That’s how reality is.”
He just continued staring at his fingers, which seemed to have been possessed by some maniac, nervous energy, intent on knotting themselves.
This only made the other boy angrier.
“Just stop it! This isn’t a fairytale, okay?” The boy spat, before turning on his heel and exiting the room with an angry slam of the door.
He often wondered why Cinderella had to go home by twelve, why she had a midnight curfew. It seemed so arbitrary to him.
Why couldn’t she stay out all night?
Jinki didn’t understand that fairytales don’t last forever. Eventually, they come to an end.
“Hyung, I’m sure he didn’t mean it… let me go talk to - “
He pieced together whatever was left of him to form the semblance of a smile.
“No, it’s ok. I’m sure he did.”
And glass shoes break. Glass shoes smash into smithereens.
But, he wondered, don’t Cinderella’s tears matter anymore?
web counter
-
inspiration again. =) this time, from the first line of this song's chorus.
*gasp* i just realized two of jinki's loves failed him here. minho caused him heartache, and chicken caused him a tummyache. /irrelevant
comments would be appreciated. =) i realize a sudden dearth of comments. =(