"Our beautiful flower, please don't cry", he said.
"We will save you", they said. I wanted to believe. I just wanted to. I hated this. I want to come back to my world.
- Insanity
- Violence
- Not recommended for sensitive viewers.
- Rough language
[Your P.O.V First person.] (Your moms name is Everleen)
My 17:th birthday, and I was just walking down the hallways. It was then my eyes stuck on that painting. Just that painting.
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[Flashback]
I was walking down the hallways with dad on my 8th birthday. But it was then my eyes glued to that painting again. "Dad, who are those?" I asked and pointed at the painting. Dad laughed a little. "It's the seven princes of Korea!" Dad replied and lifted me up to see it more clear. "Is it? I have never them before" I said confused. "Well honey, it's because they aren't real", Dad replied. I looked at him. "What do you mean dad?" "This painting was made by your Grandmother, she always made funny stories to tell, but just this one, she made a painting of," Dad said and smiled. "Well then dad, can you tell me about the story?", I asked. "Sure honey! Once upon a time, there was-"
(Flashback end)
"There was Seven Beautiful princes of Korea, their names were Namjoon, Jin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook" I said and sighed.
I loved that story. Though now I don't have anyone to tell it for me since my dad is dead, and I'm pretty sure mom doesn't even know I'm alive. And my sister moved away from Korea to Australia when she was like 18 anyways.
Every time I look at that painting, it looks awfully realistic, almost as it really was real. Suddenly I felt a little pat on my shoulder. I sighed and turned around. "Miss Y/l/n, Your dinner is ready in five minutes and your dining dress is hanging in your room, you should really hurry up since your mom is waiting for you", my staff said. I nodded and walked towards my room.
I opened the gray-ish door and walked in it. The dress was nicely laying on the bed.
'It's quite pretty', I thought.
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I put it on slowly and nicely. I put my hair in a ponytail and then walked out of my room.
My mom usually never talks to me, so this is very odd.
I sighed as I entered the dining room. My mom was looking proudly at me.
"You look stunning, honey", she said and looked at me. "Cut off the act, what is it you wanna say to me?", I asked with an attitude. I sat down on the cold brown chair. "Okay okay...", she then said in a serious tone. So something was up... "Since you are turning 18 next year, it's time for you to take the responsibility here" "I guess I have to", I said and sighed. The food looked awful. "Honey, you don't have a choice, you have to" I sighed and stood up. "And I guess practice starts tomorrow?" I asked. "You are completely right, so chop chop, go to bed and get rest", Mom replied and smiled proudly.
I started walking out of the dark dining room.
'It's my turn now huh?', I thought.
Once again I walked past the painting. Though, this time I stopped and looked at it closely. It looked kinda weird. Slowly I raised my arm to touch it, at least what I thought. I didn't touch it, my arm just went right through it, and so did my whole body.
