Submitted to Creative Writing Class on March, 2019

It is almost seven, Hoseok needs to hurry home before something bad can happen. The street lamps flicker as he walks, it almost like they give a precautionary yell silently. It is nobody’s fault, really. He doesn’t really want to be dragged on the meetings, but one of his classmate’s speech to him was really moving and impressive. He knew he would regret his decision later, but, now, he has to go home very quickly.

Hoseok’s house is the furthest from all his friend’s on the meeting he has attended earlier. He is glad he brings his bicycle, or else he wouldn’t be at home on time. It is almost seven; he thinks it maybe five seconds to it when Hoseok finally arrives in front of his house. His sister doesn’t lock the front gate yet, bless her, so Hoseok clumsily makes his way inside. His left foot is barely inside when the siren somewhere starts to blast.

“Hoseok-ah!” His mother whispers when he enters the house. “Where have you been?”

“I’m sorry, Ma. Some friends hold me up for a chat.”

“You’re not up to something, are you?”

“No, Ma, I will not.” Hoseok’s tone is reassuring, or, at least, he tries to be. “I surely disagree with all these commotions, but I don’t want to make you sad, so, yeah, I’m trying to not involved.”

His mother eyes him for a while and she sighs. “I am afraid, Hoseok-ah, you and Dawon are old enough to be mistaken as a part of the protesters. I kept thinking—”

“No, Ma. I’ll stay out of trouble.” Hoseok smiles. “I will be coming home every day. I won’t be involved, okay?”

His mother sighs into Hoseok’s shoulder when he pulls her into a hug.