paper airplanes || pjm

ᵈᵉˢᵗⁱⁿᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ

𝚢/𝚗'𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚟

4:26 am

I woke up, sweating and panting, gasping for air like my life depended on it. I had another bad dream, those nightmares really shook me up whenever I got them; they seem to become more frequent. I thought I was just over-stressing myself too much, juggling work and school, on top of that trying to find an apartment. I've been on the hunt, looking for some decent apartments, but the reviews on most of them weren't so good. I got up and headed downstairs to my dad's kitchen, opening the fridge as I looked for something to eat. I settled on a toasted cheese and butter sandwich. I was waiting for the bread to pop out of the toaster, when I heard a loud bang from the front door.

𝙎𝙝𝙞𝙩.

I backed up to the staircase as I thought what seemed like, russling of some sort, like someone shoving as many things as they could into a.. bag? That's when it hit me. I was- my dad and I were being robbed.

I quickly yet quietly ran up the stairs, running to my dads room. I shook him by the shoulder before getting a "Hmm?„ I shook him a little more before whispering, "Dad, I think we're being robbed..„ His eyes shot open, as he now started hearing the russling of a bag and all sorts of different things being thrown into a duffel bag. "Come on.„ He said, dragging me along the floor to the guest bedroom. He passes me his phone, whispering for me to call 911. He quickly leaves the room, leaving me in the dark room alone.

Maybe around 5 minutes later the russling noises stopped, it was silent, too silent.

I get up, still on the phone with the 911 operator, "It's too quiet..„ I whisper into the phone, "I'm going out to look for my dad.„ I manage to say. "Ma'am, I'm going to need to you stay hidden, we can't have you getting injured.„ Sure, the operator did have a point, but I knew for sure I wasn't going to let my dad die or anything of that sort, so I whisper into the phone, "I'm sorry..„ And I hung up.

I walked up to the door, pressing my ear up to it, listening for any noise that may be occouring from the other side. Nothing. I quietly opened the door, peeking my singular eye out to look down the hallway, only to be met with nothin- wait.

Is that my dads hand?

On the floor?

I walk out, tiptoeing my way down the hall to be met with my dads muscular veiny hand, his arm stretching down to his shoulder blade, his shoulder blade connecting to the rest of his.. bloody body. I screamed as loud as I could, my eardrums ringing, giving myself a migraine. Salty tears streamed down my face like a waterfall, my breath hitching every few seconds, trying to catch my unsteady breath, I fell to my knees and cried and cried. His eyes were struck open, his face stuck in the same face of pure terror. What person would have the heart, the soul to even think of doing such violent things. I was disgusted, I was mortified and shocked. I was almost paralyzed from the sight of my dad lifeless in the doorway of my bedroom. I was so immersed in my ugly sobs that I didn't realize two men behind me. I was forcefully grabbed and was being dragged by my arms down the stairs. I screamed and hollered for help, now regretting hanging up on the operator. Kicked my legs out and around, trying to get out of their strong grasps, obviously failing, I could only cry, my ugly sobs turning into quiet cries of help and defeat.

"Shut up.„ A man said. I couldn't though, not after the trauma of seeing my own dads lifeless body on the floor. So she cried and cried until the man got sick of it and slapped her. "Are you deaf? I said SHUT UP!„ I almost instantly forced myself to stop crying, out of fear of what he might do and what the outcome might be. I was soon dragged out to their vehicle, pushed inside and the other men started getting in, one pushing me up right. Soon enough, it would've been 10 minutes and then one of the men next to me pulled out some sort of briefcase. He opened it, revealing a syringe, some sort of liquid and what looks to be a rag and chloroform. She trembled, squirming and freaking out, hitting the man and screaming at him, as I was in a fight or flight situation, I was NOT getting knocked out for 8 hours, not if my life depended on it; which it did.

But the other man to my right bounded me with his arms, as the man with the syringe filled the needle tube and soon enough, injected it into me.

𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚙𝚘𝚟

She woke up, everything was all hazy. "What a weird dream that was, it felt so real...„ She mumbled to herself, not knowing someone else was in the room with her. "You sure it was a dream?„ Someone said from the corner of the room. She had goosebumps, she was now realizing this wasn't even close to a dream, this was a living nightmare. She was actually kidnapped, so had woken up on a bed on an old single person bed, she quickly sat up, the bed frame squeaking with her sudden movement. She was about to stand up when she had realized there was a handcuff bounding her right arm to the bed. She panicked, she was freaking out because there might be a serial killer or a stalker in the room with her. She started screaming and flailing around, not getting anywhere with it. "Stop squirming. I'm not going to kill you.„ The mysterious male said, he walked out of the dark corner, into the small light from the hanging light bulb in the cold musty room. She looked at his face, his mesmerizing features made her somewhat forget what was going on around her, his brown eyes, piercing her soul. She had also noticed his one monolid and one creased eyelid, his sharp jaw and porcelain skin, no flaw whatsoever. She soon snapped out of it though when she realized she was starring at what might be a serial killer.

"I'm Taehyung, Kim Taehyung.„ He smiled.

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A/N: hii!! this is my first story, i hope you enjoyed it, i just wanted to jump right into it and i have honestly no clue how this will play out, but lets see!!

1128 words.

paper airplanes