Aren't you happy? [1/1]
Aren't you happy? [1/1] | 2min | g | 700+
au, mystery | unbeta-ed, | prompt used: quote
note: my first challenge in shawol_haven. I was just somehow extremely inspired by this quote and had to write this XD
Minho enters the big building through heavy wooden doors. It is an old church, big and empty, enlightened by coloured sunrays entering through the windows. The windows are big and colourful, they tell stories, stories of Jesus, stories of Maria, stories of saints and stories of life. The window behind the altar in the far back of the church is bigger than the others, more colourful. The lights are dancing in blue, red, yellow and green and it makes the altar seem special, magical.
Minho walks through the corridor leading to the altar, passing empty banks, each step echoing through the building.
He kneels down in front of the steps leading to the altar and breathes out, closing his eyes. The cool air soothes him, makes his hair flutter a little bit.
He licks his lips and folds his hands together, leaning them against his chest and lifts his head, his closed eyes facing the church’s roof.
“God,-“he whispers, “please give us happiness, I’m not asking for much, but please all I want to have is happiness.”. He waits, seconds pass and he feels nothing, nothing except for the cold breeze and the hard floor under his knees. He sighs, “all I’m asking for is happiness.”.
“Aren’t you happy?” a sweet honey-like voice echoes through the church, it is loud and clear and Minho flinches, snapping his eyes open.
He looks around, but can’t find anyone. He stands up and frowns.
“Who is there?”
“The wind, the wind the heaven-born wind!” the voice chimes, followed by a light laugh.
Minho grits his teeth and clenches his fists.
“Stop playing!” he says loudly, obviously annoyed.
There is no answer and Minho sighs, turning around and making his way out of the church.
“Wait!” he hears the voice, now a little bit more serious. He turns around.
“Aren’t you happy?” a thin boy appears behind a statue of Maria, still half hidden behind it.
The boy is pale, almost sick-looking, his big brown eyes looking curious and his smile shy. He is beautiful, but looks fragile and breakable, not like Minho who is tall, muscular and tanned.
Minho doesn’t move he just stares at the boy, his big eyes intensely observing the small figure.
“Why are you not happy?” the boy asks again, slowly stepping out of his dark hideout, looking even paler and thinner bathed in dancing light. The boy stares at him, brows furrowed as he slowly walks closer to Minho.
“W-we are slaves.” He mumbles, looking away, irritated by the boy’s intense gaze.
“Who is we?” the boy is now standing in front of Minho, looking up at him.
“My family and I.” Minho states, finding the boys curiosity strange.
“How big is your family?” the boy says, stepping even closer, his cold breath hitting Minho’s face.
“Big, all the slaves here belong to my family.”
“Aren’t you happy with them?”
Minho shakes his head, his eyes sad and frustrated.
“I am happy that I have such a great family, but we all suffer, we are slaves and we are poor, that means we don’t have the freedom to do what we want, we belong to our owners, you can’t be happy when you are not free.” He explains.
“But they don’t own your mind, your heart or your soul right?” the boy insists.
“No, that is something no one can own.”
“Shouldn’t you be happy then? You have family, people you love, a life and your soul. Isn’t that enough for you to be happy?” the boy is frowning at him, leaning back and taking a few steps back.
“I-“
"Happiness always looks small while you hold it in your hands, but let it go, and you learn at once how big and precious it is. Be happy Minho, be happy with what you have and if you are not: sit down and think about it. How would you feel if your family was gone, if you were rich and free but not surrounded by the people you love?"
The boy grins at him and makes a few turns, laughing happily and then walks away, opening the heavy wooden door and waving Minho goodbye before closing the door behind him.
Minho stands there, frozen and honestly a little bit shocked.
He snaps back to attention and runs out of the church, looking for the boy, but he is nowhere to be found.
A few years later Minho finds out that the boy had been Taemin, his owner’s sick son who supposedly had died two days before Minho stepped into that church.
*
FIN
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- I apologize for grammar/spelling mistakes english is not my native language.
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