The staff lounge was dim, the coffee stale, and the silence heavy. Dr. Kim Taehyung sat across from a man in his late thirties, his white coat unbuttoned, his dark hair slightly disheveled. This was Dr. Seokjin, the boy’s previous psychiatrist.
Between them lay the same file Taehyung had studied the night before, its edges worn from years of being handled.
“You’ve read it,” Seokjin said quietly, his voice lined with exhaustion. “But files never tell the whole story, do they?”
Taehyung shook his head. “No. They don’t.”
Seokjin leaned back, arms folded, eyes distant. “That boy… he isn’t like the others. He doesn’t respond to anything. No therapy methods, no communication exercises. Nothing.”
Taehyung hesitated. “Selective mutism can take time. With the right trust—”
Seokjin gave a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Trust? Doctor, this child doesn’t even know what that word means. Every adult in his life hurt him. Used him. Broke him. By the time he was admitted here, he had already built walls so high that no one could climb them.”
Taehyung’s jaw tightened. He remembered the boy’s body locked in the corner, the way he had flinched at the sound of the chair dragging across the floor.
“Then why refer him to me?” he asked.
For the first time, Seokjin’s expression softened, his gaze steady on Taehyung. “Because I failed. I tried everything I knew—talk therapy, art therapy, even silent sessions where I just sat with him. Nothing. He never spoke a word. He never moved from that corner unless staff forced him to. But…”
He trailed off, his brow furrowing slightly. “There were moments. Small ones. A flicker of his eyes, the way he tensed differently at certain words, certain sounds. Moments that told me… maybe he isn’t completely unreachable.”
Taehyung leaned forward, listening.
“That’s why I referred him,” Seokjin continued. “Not because I believe in miracles, but because I believe sometimes a new presence can change something. Even if it’s only a crack in the wall he’s built.”
Silence settled between them, broken only by the hum of the fluorescent light above.
Finally, Seokjin stood, gathering his notes. His voice was quiet when he spoke again. “Most of the staff think he’ll never recover. That he’s too far gone. But if you can prove them wrong…” He paused, looking Taehyung directly in the eye.
“…then you’ll be the first person in that boy’s life to give him what no one else has ever offered.”
Taehyung’s throat felt tight. “What’s that?”
Seokjin’s lips curved into the faintest, saddest smile. “Hope.”
Pls read my other story too 🙏
