P O I S O N || VKOOK

::THREE::

      03. The Tied Boy   

"Ma..."

"Ma..."

Taehyung shakes the woman's body in front of him.

His movements are fast; quite near the frantic phase. His hands don't quit shaking her shoulders even if she fails to respond.

When it becomes pretty evident to the six years old that his mother's not going to wake up, his tears stop abruptly. The white sheet crumples in his grasp, knuckles turning paler.

He steps away from the medical gurney, sheets still in his hold.

A burn rakes over his messy head.
It's excruciating, the way it keeps and keeps and keeps spreading through his forehead, his eyes, nose, bitten lips.

Then it's all around his body too; the warmth.

.

It's aloof.

It's not comforting but it's not satisfying either.

It's nothing he's been used to this far in his little life.

Taehyung's palms let loose over the sheet when it becomes too much.

He covers his sides with his hands, trying to pat himself slowly just like his mother does did whenever he hurt himself playing or getting clumsy.

The pain does not go away.

It's red; numbness of a red hot poker impaling his insides in bouts.

His hands are all red too with a viscous fluid. It's dark and so very rich that when Taehyung pats again in unbearable pain to somehow get rid of it, it only sticks to him more feverishly.

He's scared.

Only when he takes a closer look of the enclosed room does he realize it doesn't have any door, neither an entrance nor a window.

It reminds him of those cages and tombs he used to rave about while his mum scolded him for watching horror movies.

It was fun when he was on the other end; chips crumble all around his mouth and eyes glued to the screen.