PITYING THE PRISONER | p.jm

t w e l v e - j i m i n

Run.

It's all I can think, all I'm willing to think. I just run, heading north as Cora had instructed me. I tear through the forest at top speed, fueled only by adrenaline and the leftover shock from my torture session. I have to get out of here; I have to get back home and to Bangtan. I have to see my family again. I don't think about Cora. I'm not willing to let myself think about her. It might slow me down, and I can't have anything slowing me down when I'm this close to freedom.

Then, a shot.

I stop.

I turn around, half-expecting someone to be right behind me, waiting to bring me back to that awful place, but no one is there. I feel as though my blood has run cold. My eyes widen. Either Cora just shot someone or someone just shot Cora. I pray it's the former and force myself to keep moving. I can't lose ground; some of these Company men are probably on my tail at this very moment. I have no time.

Bringing my pace back up to a run, I reassure myself that Cora is okay, that I'll see her again soon. The goal is just to get to Suwon, call Bangtan, and then try to find Cora. No matter what, staying here will not help me find her. I'm going to need the police's help to get her back and to bring this God-forsaken organization down, so there's no use staying where I am any longer.

Through trees I run, my recently-damaged lungs barely doing their job. My breath is ragged and my heartbeat thumps over and over in my head, but I keep pushing on. Each tree, each bush I pass seems to threaten me. Thickets of brambles tear at my pants and prick my legs, but I pay no heed to them. I just keep running.

Finally, the edge of the forest comes into view. I slow down a bit, not wanting to run directly into an ambush. Carefully, I take shelter behind a large oak tree, crouching down and looking to see if anyone or anything is waiting for me. After a minute or so of rest and surveillance, I realize that no one is looking for me. I stand, take a deep breath, and survey the land I have to cover. It's a field, nothing special. It doesn't look like anything out of the ordinary.

In my head, I count down from three. Upon reaching one, I start running again. Unlike the forest, the field presents no obstacles for me to overcome. Traversing it is easy, luckily for my burning lungs. After awhile, I have to stop, and a fit of coughing overtakes me. I place my hands on my knees, my body aching as I expel more of the leftover water in my lungs. Minutes pass, and my coughing spell finally ends.

I turn, looking back at where I had come from. Still, nothing awaits me. I do a three-hundred-and-sixty degree sweep of my surroundings, and finally— in what I assume is the east— I see a light. I set my sights on it and break into a jog, as I've exhausted myself and can no longer run at full-force. It takes about fifteen minutes to reach this light, which turns out to be the fluorescent sign for a gas station. The lights are on in the building and I enter, taking heavy breaths and doing everything in my power to not collapse. I once again rest my hands on my knees, focusing on breathing.

A man of about thirty turns to greet me as he would any customer, but then he sees my condition.

"Sir, are you okay? What happened to you?"

"I need your phone," I force out, looking up at him pleadingly.

Suddenly, recognition fills his face. "Park Jimin? You're alive, it's unbelievable! Of course, one second. Here, sit down." From behind the counter, he produces a chair and sets it in front of me before handing me his cell phone from his pocket. As I dial, he hurries to the back of the store and gets a bottle of water. He hands it to me as the line connects.

"This is 119, what is your emergency?" A receptionist asks.

"I'm, uh—" I cough, pausing before speaking again. "I'm Park Jimin of Bangtan Sonyeondan, and I'd like to report that I'm, uh— alive."