⟨Juŋkøøkˈs pøʋ⟩

Jimin told me that his Dad was moving out. He seemed really happy about that. Today is apparently my last day in the attic and tomorrow, I can have the guestroom all to myself.

It was a little past midnight. Jimin made sure I had enough water and my cell phone with me before he made his way downstairs. Tonight is surprisingly silent, unlike the other nights where I constantly hear a male voice which I assume, is Jimin's father, yelling.

I lay still for several minutes but for some reason, l just couldn't fall asleep. There are still a few days to go before my next therapy session. I don't feel anything. Everything is just like how it used to be.

I look at the time on my cell phone. It was a quarter past two at night. So it's been more than just several minutes.

I'm suddenly reminded of the photo album. Jimin let me have it. The switch of the light in the attic is outside. So I better rule it off as an option not worthy of being chosen. I turn on the flashlight and start to flip through the pages again.

The photos had dates written on them as well and the dates go far back till 1996. He was a chubby one, I see. He always had a cheeky smile, like he does now.

There are so many pictures of him from his school. A lot of pictures were of him holding medals, trophies and certificates. It seems that Jimin was a brilliant child too.

There were a lot of empty spots on the surface of the paper and was rough in texture, as though someone had torn off a picture. There were lesser and lesser pictures as I flipped through the pages.

I finally came to the last page. It looked like it had been taken recently, but it didn't have any date. It was a picture of Jimin leaning on his Mom's shoulder at a restaurant, a small, gentle smile on his lips.

Suddenly, the light flicked on. My first instinct was to shoot my head in the direction of the door and the slight anxiety I felt, disappeared when I saw Jimin.

He looked at the album I was holding and a tint of red appeared on his cheeks.

"Did you go through all of that?"

"Yes."

"Like-every single one of those photos?"

I nod. He sits down beside me and takes the album.

"I was so awkward. It's like I forget how to smile whenever a camera is shoved at my face."

He laughs at himself while I'm trying to figure out why he's here, at this time of the morning. It kind of took me by surprise when he manages to voice out my thoughts without me telling it to him.

"Are you wondering what I am doing here at this time?"

One thing I hate the most about people is them answering their own questions, but somehow, I find myself listening to Jimin patiently.

"Dad's leaving. He'll want to see me, but I don't want to see him. I'll let Mom make up some excuse for my absence and stay here for a few minutes."

There is a moment of silence before Jimin speaks again.

"Are you comfortable? Like you know what I mean, right?"

I won't say I'm uncomfortable. The aura just appears to be a little quirky to me. I nod anyways, since I have no right to complain, especially with how Jimin and his mother treat me.

There's more silence, but I can hear shuffles downstairs. I'm sure Jimin can hear it too. His Dad was talking, but it wasn't clear what he was talking about.

"Are we good enough for you?"

That question catches a off guard a little. A always spent time thinking about how I could repay their kindness, but they think they are not good enough.

"Of course you are."

I say. There's more silence. Jimin sits silently beside me, both of us staring at the wall. I hear the stairs to the attic creak again and seconds later, Jimin's Mom is peeking through the door.

"You can um...come downstairs now, if you want to."

That's how I know that Jimin's Dad is gone. Jimin looks at me, giving me the most hopeful eyes he'd ever given me. I knew I had to go downstairs. I grab my things and follow them downstairs.

And although I have to sleep here alone, just like in the attic, it's much more comfortable. The windows are made of glass, so even though they are closed, you can get a very pretty view of nature. They let me keep the nightlight on and also left the door open. They seem to understand me very well.

For the first time, I feel the pressure build behind my eyeballs and tears form in my eyes as I lay on the cosy bed, wrapped in a thick, soft blanket. And it's not because I'm sad, it's because I'm happy. Like, truly, happy.

I could never ask for more from them. I owe them so much. I let the tears slip.

I've found a family.

I never knew having a family can feel this good. And although it's just a few days over two weeks, I already feel like they have become the reason I can give life a second opportunity to get better.

I knew the night went well when Jimin literally had to shake me awake. It took me a while to realize why he was laughing but as I glimpsed at the clock, the time displayed was 10:47 am.

"Seems like you like it here better."

After I've washed my face, I usually have nothing to do all day. I sit with my cell phone, playing the small colour-matching game it has, until it's night again.

But today as I was served my breakfast in the kitchen for the first time, I had seen Jimin put a lot of items on the countertop. And I'm not saying that is abnormal. It just made no sense to me when he said he wants me to help him cook.

Not just cook, but bake a cake.

I always had to cook for myself and I've never baked a cake. Mom would buy it occasionally and I'd eat the leftovers, so I don't have a complete idea of the ingredients.

It just makes me so overwhelmed have always wanted a cake on my birthday, but never got a single bite of it. Why are they doing this for me? And though it's not my birthday today, I feel like I'm celebrating it for the first time.

For the first time, I feel like growing is fun. For the time time, I like the idea of putting more effort to make life work.