Please Don't Leave Me Behind Again (Completed)

Chapter Two

As always, thank you for all your support. Seeing such a good reaction to my story motivates me to keep going. With over 100 votes already and 350 views, well, that's amazing. I promise to keep working hard! I hope you enjoy the next chapter. As always, comments and thoughts are always loved, so let me know what you think. If there is anything you want to see happen, also let me know.

Also, the video attached is a little parkour for your entertainment. Remember, the boys can be pretty competitive, so this will come into play later on in the story. Hehe.

***

**| Sang's POV |**

I feel him, always just one step behind me. Stalking me. Watching me. His hand reaches out and touches my hair and I can't take it anymore. I run. I run as fast as I can but my legs aren't working right. They're heavy, slowing me down. I can hear him behind me, also running, keeping up with me. My heart pounds in my chest because I know. There is no getting away from him. He will always be there. Stalking me. Watching me. Touching me.

I woke up with only a small gasp, feeling the mysterious man's hands on my body. I suppressed a shiver and slowly sat up, wiping away the sleep and nightmare from my eyes.

Another nightmare. They occurred on most nights and I had to teach myself a long time ago to not scream out from them. I was punished every time I screamed and woke up my stepmother.

I glanced at my small nightstand with the clock on it. Four in the morning. I groaned and got to my feet, padding out of my room and into the bathroom across the hallway to wash my face. When I finished, instead of going to bed like I probably should have, I decided to just do my chores and get them over with.

I spent an hour making sure everything was clean.

I did the dishes from last night, the pile high on the counter.

I swept the floors because apparently Maria had a midnight snack and managed to get chips all over the living room and kitchen floor.

I checked to make sure all the boxes were unpacked and broken down when I came across the one without anything written on it. The mover had placed it next to the couch and I somehow missed it yesterday.

The box wasn't heavy when I lifted it. I placed it on the coffee table and tore off the packing tape to see what was inside. The box was filled with papers, folders, pictures, trinkets, and a small wooden box with intricate carvings on it.

The papers on top were birth certificates for Maria and me. Underneath that was a photo of a young woman, around my age. My hand stilled before I slowly lifted it out of the box. My heart pounded against my chest as I stared wide-eyed at the picture. The woman looked almost exactly like me, but taller, with bigger eyes. Even from the photograph I could see the greenness of her eyes, they were just like mine. She was smiling at the camera, her blonde hair falling around her shoulders. She looked so soft and warm. Happy. Not as subdued as I was, but free.

Who was she?

Was this woman a relative? An aunt? Cousin? I paused for a moment before I let the thought and possibility out.

My mother?

I touched the picture as questions filled my mind. Dad refused to talk about the woman he had an affair with. Whenever I tried to bring her up, he would ignore me and just walk out of the room, his signature 'I don't want to deal with this' move. Was this her? Was this the woman who birthed me?

I heard a creak from the master bedroom and glanced at the door that led to the room, waiting for someone to come out. When no one did, I put the picture back into the box and then closed it up. I quickly looked around before coming to a decision.