That morning was strange. For the boy, opening the door because he didn't want to go to school always felt like hell. But the door opened easily. My steps were lighter than ever. I used to suffer from nervous hives every night and scratch my whole body due to various pains, but on this day, unlike before, there were fewer red bumps. “Eat breakfast.” Her mother's voice was prickly and painful, but she reacted for the first time that day. “Yes,” she answered quietly and sat down at her table. But it was still difficult to make eye contact with her tired-looking mother. Because she worked night shifts, her hands, feet, and face were all swollen in the morning, and now she looked like her mother's face. She probably wouldn't have been so obsessed with work if she hadn't been so confident. “Isn’t it time to pay the academy fee? What about the reading room fee?” It’s okay. The breakfast I ate for the first time in a while was soggy in my mouth, so the answer came out small. But since the boy was originally silent and shy, her mother did not care. Go and sleep. She spoke with sleepy eyes to her mother, who sat across from her, who thought for a moment and then stood up from her seat. She eats and leaves, leaving her alone. When her mother entered her room with a listless body, the boy looked at her mother only then. Her mother lay on the blanket on the floor with her door half open. The boy knew that the reason he didn't close the door was that he wanted to hear his son leave, even in his sleep. Even though he was criticized for being unmanly and timid, the boy had better empathy and was more emotional than other boys his age. But this cannot be an advantage in a boys' school. The light on my cell phone turned on. Even without looking, he knew who it was from. If you don't look and answer right away, you'll get scolded at school, but it's okay today. He didn't have to worry. After finishing the meal that her mother had prepared for her, she left the empty dishes in her dishwasher and carried her bag. His heart was light, but his mother's half-open visit did not allow him to leave easily. The boy put his shoes on at the front door, looked at his mother's room for a while, and then came out. The day was very nice. Every day, every hour, every second, the worry, fear, and hatred that piled on top of the boy's head, weighing him down so that he could not stand up, did not even feel like weight. He was amazing. After crying all night and making a decision, as if letting go of something he had been worrying about, everything changed. The boy's steps toward the subway station quickened. He checked the piece of paper in his pocket several times with his hand. In this state, he had to finish what he decided to do before this feeling disappeared. A morning like this was unfamiliar and unfamiliar to him, and he knew it would never come again. 7 a.m. This impatience pushed the boy back.