rainbow hair ✈ chensung

sechs

Brownies

"When I was four years old... I was kidnapped."

Jisung's eyes widened. "You don't have to tell me, I didn't know-"

"Just shut up and listen." Chenle sighed, it was too late for him to turn back now.

I don't remember much, really. I was too young to understand what everything that happened really meant. But I do remember that it was dark, very dark, and the stars were the only light in the sky, almost like right now. My sister was home and my parents were out on a date night, or at least that's what they told me. I was laying in bed, surrounded by my stuffed animals just staring at the ceiling. I couldn't sleep that night. There was this unexplainable feeling in the pit of my stomach and I couldn't identify them, but I can now, and that feeling was definitely an overwhelming sense of dread.

The first thing I remember hearing was the front door opening. I didn't think much of it because I assumed my parents were home, so I just waited for them to peek their head in behind the door and wish me good night like they always had. But they didn't. No one came into my room for a while that night, friend or foe. I could hear shuffling from the living room, things breaking, muffled screams, but one sound stood out to me like black on white. It was silence. Everything just seemed to stop in an instant. No more screams, no more movement. And it scared me, god, it terrified me.

"Come closer, you're shivering."

"It's not from the cold, I promise."

I hopped down from my bed, the blanket clutched in my hand was trailing behind me. The living room was oh so dark, and I was always scared of the dark. So, on instinct, I turned the lamp on, the blue one that made the couch turn navy, and the light look like the ocean. I've never been afraid of the dark since that day, I've always been scared of what I can see in the light. The couch didn't turn navy anymore, it turned purple from the red staining it. The light didn't seem to swim on the floor anymore, it seemed to drown in the red stains. But the worst part was that it highlighted the gruesome scene of my murdered sister lying in the middle of it all. My mother used to tell me stories about how much that girl loved me. How she had always wanted a brother, and she would do anything for me. She died trying to save me, even if she didn't understand what was going on either. She was twelve, Jisung, twelve. She was the smartest in her grade, had the most humble soul, and she loved me with all of her heart. She looked so beautiful to me, even with the blood stains and deep slashes. I remember I had approached her, shook her, yelled in her ear, begged her to wake up. But she wouldn't, and she never would again. I stared at her for the longest time, not knowing where to go or what to do. So when someone finally told me what to do, I did it without thinking. I let the man's calloused hand grab my own, and I let him walk me all the way to his black pickup truck. I went willingly, technically, but I didn't go willingly, legally.

He drove and drove for hours. It was late and I had fallen asleep in the back seat with that stupid blanket still in my hand. When he had woken me up, the stars had been replaced by the light of the sun. He walked me into a house, a very small house. It was basically a giant room with a basement, and the basement became my home. I never found it weird that I wasn't allowed to go to school, or that there were no windows because that was all I was used to. The bolt on the door felt like safety to me, not a restriction.

I lived there for ten years, never leaving, never seeing the world. The only person I ever talked to was my kidnapper, but I loved him. Not how I love you, or how I love a pet, but how I loved my own father. He became my parents. I didn't get much, but every day he'd bring me a brownie. It was like a reward for not being bad, or leaving or whatever. But after I ate it, everything seemed to blur. As I grew older, things started to seem more suspicious, but I did everything I could to convince myself that this man loved me and was my father, that's how I know what it feels like. What it feels like to constantly try and find a good thing about the person to hold onto, to always say to yourself that what they do is normal.

"I love you, okay?"

"Jisung, shut up, I know."

Two years ago, my real parents found me. They said to me that I had been kidnapped, that they missed me and didn't blame me for my sister's death. The psychiatrist told me I had developed Stockholm Syndrome. The police told me that he was going to jail. Everyone told me different things about the blurry ten years of my life while I was there, and I didn't know what to believe. I had to go to detox for drug withdrawals because the brownies were always laced. I had to go to the doctors to make sure I didn't have any STD's because the blurry part of my life was just sexual abuse. And I had to go home, with my real parents. Above all, that was the hardest part. They hadn't moved from that damned house, but the couch was gone and a rug was placed over the red stains on the hardwood.

Every time they tried to touch me, I'd flip. I spent a year of my life thinking my parents were my real abductors. Every day I could see the hope in their eyes die a little more, and it broke me. I devoted my life to catching up with everyone else. I read, and I wrote, and I did math and science, but I was just so far behind. I would do it day in and day out, never sleeping, never stopping. I didn't feel sad, not at all, and that's what I had thought depression meant, but it's not. I was empty, and I didn't even realize it. I was purposely destroying myself to try and cope with everything that had happened to me. If my parents were to walk into this store and see me right now, cuddling with you and not freaking out, I think they'd have a heart attack.

"What, why? Are they homophobic, I swear-"

"I love you but shut up."

I won't even let my father place his hand on my shoulder because I've developed such a strong fear of men. I can't sleep at night because I'm scared of every little gust of wind and every drop of water from the bathroom sink.

"I'll sleep with you if you need. Not like that!"

"Jesus Christ, hush!"

I can't help but blame myself for my sister's death, even if my parents don't blame me and even if she died happy that she tried to protect me. I take pills for depression so I can force myself to look my parents in the eyes without wanting to die, so I can hug my mom without breaking down crying at how wrong being home feels. But it's weird, everything feels so natural around you. I feel like I don't need my pills around you, like my smiles come naturally. I can touch you, Jisung, without thinking that you're going to hurt me. So please, I beg you, never leave me. You don't have to be with me all the time or look at me all the time, I just need to know that when I come here every day, you'll be here, waiting for me.

"I will, I promise."

"Don't break your promise."