daybreak || minsung

Chapter 11

I turned the corner, and the chainlink fence curved around me, locking me in like a cage. Light rain pattered on my head, and my hands started to shake. I could hear the footsteps behind me becoming louder, faster...

I darted forward in a split second decision. I jumped up the fence, pushing my fingers through the chains, but a pair of arms pulled me back, turning me around and shoving me against the fence. The force of it knocked the air out of my lungs, and the metal rattled sharply in my ears. A big hand pressed against my collar, kept me there. I opened my eyes to see a man with a red baseball cap obscuring his face.

Another two joined, holding my shoulder and wrists to the chains behind me. A fourth one came forward and started checking my coat pockets. He yanked out my book and prism and tossed them on the ground. I didn't realize I was mumbling "Please stop" again and again under my breath, until one of the men told me to shut up.

"Where's your wallet?" he shouted.

"M-my pocket — jacket pocket," I stuttered. My wrists and my collarbone hurt in a burning squeeze. It overwhelmed me that I couldn't make the pain stop.

The man rifled through my jacket — the hoodie jacket under my rain coat — and pulled out my wallet. He flipped it open, but stopped short when one of the others hit him on the shoulder, pointing up the alley.

A pair of bright white headlights were racing toward us.

"Go, go," the man to my side said. "Let's go."

The one in front of me pocketed the remaining sixty dollars, and threw my wallet on the ground. The four of them took off running, up the alley and around the corner.

All I heard was someone's harsh, deep breathing — and then I realized it was mine. I watched myself slowly lower to the ground, still staring at the headlights zooming in my direction. What terrifying thing could happen to me next? It felt like nothing was off the table.

The car stopped at the intersection, as if deciding whether to follow the men, or come to me. It was barely a second before the car shot forward, and then slowed, coming to a halt a few meters from me.

It was a silver Volvo.

Jisung rushed toward me, dropped onto his knees, hesitantly touching my arm. I just peered at him, all fear washing from my brain, leaving nothing but empty space. His face was anxious, frantic, and he breathed in short gasps as he gently pulled my hand up and examined my wrist. It felt bruised, though it wasn't showing yet. He wrapped his hand around it — the chill of his skin felt really good — and looked at my face.

"Minho," he said, eyebrows tipped down in worry, "are you... are you all right?"

I peeled his hand from my wrist, moving forward slowly and hugging him around his neck. I heard him stop breathing. I burrowed my face into his shoulder, starting to shake. His presence was a miracle — an astounding, disorienting miracle. Why here? Why now? How did he know where I was, what was happening?

I felt him hesitantly link his hands behind my back, a tender pat-pat, a soft rub up-and-down. He was just as good at hugs as I expected him to be. My heartbeat started to slow.

"I'm sorry," he said after a moment. "What do you need?"

"I-I don't k-know." I cleared my throat. "I feel sc-scared."

He sighed like my words hurt. "They're gone. They will never" — he hissed the word — "touch you again, I swear."

I twitched, pulling him closer. "They took m-my goddamn money."

"That doesn't matter, Minho."

I breathed deeply, loosening my hold on him a bit — not too much. "I guess."