Jimin. /PJM/

4

Yoongi guides me into a large, slightly knackered looking, building which earns us multiple odd stares from workers. He seems to scare them off just by glancing in their direction.

"What's in all the boxes?" I ask quietly, confused as to what the facility is so heavily distributing.

"Sorry, sweetheart, that's confidential. We just distribute them further." He says, leading me into the back of the building to a more residential area. "I know this place isn't much but it keeps me well."

"What's this?" I ask, pointing to a metal box on the side of the counter.

He looks at me, baffled. "That, that's a microwave, love. Haven't you seen one before?"

"A microwave?" I get closer to the box and press one of the buttons, it starts beeping and I jump back about ten feet when the inside illuminates. "What does it do?"

"It heats, sometimes cooks, food." he wraps one arm around my waist, pressing another button to turn it off, and guides me away from it.

"There's a man I left behind." I look up at him as I speak,

"Another patient?"

"No." I sigh, picturing him in my head, "He looked after me. And he comforted me, and tried to protect me."

"Protect you from what?"

"Myself. That's what the doctor said."

Yoongi just nods in understanding, gently pushing me to sit down on the sofa. "Do you know what you did?"

"No."

I watch as he goes through some cupboards, grabbing a pot with plastic packaging before switching on another metal thing. What is that?

"What's that?" I point at the foreign object,

"A kettle. They heat up water."

"We're not supposed to have hot food, or water." I watch as he trudges round the kitchen, grabbing a bowl and soon pouring the hot water into the plastic pot. He leaves it for a few minutes. "They're dangerous."

"Tell me more about this man. Why is he so important?"

"I didn't want to leave him behind. He was special to me. He was my...person."

"So you want to go back for him?"

"Yes, but then I'll be caught again. They think I'm crazy." I relax on the sofa, pouting slightly, "I never even did anything. Anything I can remember. Surely if it's that bad I would remember it?"

"Here." He hands me the bowl, now full of hot noodles, and a pair of chopsticks, "Be careful, it's hot."

I blow on the noodles before shoving some into my mouth - amazed at the warm, tingling sensation. He just watches me, clearly considering what to do about my problem.

"What if I go there and meet this man myself? I could bring him a message from you. What's his name?"

"I'm sorry." I feel my heart drop slightly, not a clue as to what his name could be. They never had names. They. "I don't know."

I sniffle slightly, feeling tears prick my eyes as I know I won't ever find him. I wonder if he misses me? If he misses me as much as I miss him? Maybe I'll never see him again...but maybe that's a good thing? No...it's not. It can't be. He could be looking for me right now, maybe he feels the same way.

"Don't cry, sweetheart." Yoongi rubs my back gently, "As long as you can describe him to me, I'm sure I can find him."

"He's about your height, blonde curly hair, big brown eyes. Actually sometimes his hair is straight, but it's golden blonde, and really soft. He used to let me run my fingers through it." I smile softly at the memory, "He has very soft features, plump lips, a smooth nose, he looks like an angel. He is an angel."

"I'll try my best. I have to go to the facility later today to return some damaged packages." He nods, "This man...he works there? Are you sure you can trust him?"

"I-I think so." I whisper, hoping with all my heart that he'll help me. I swallow the last of the noodles and he takes the bowl from me, washing it up. "Where are we?"

He answers after a moment or two, "About 500 yards from the facility, so not very far away. I'm sure they'll come searching in a few hours."

I can't go back.

I can't go back.

I can't go back.

"Don't worry, we'll be out of here by then. But first, we need to make you unrecognisable, come with me." Yoongi takes my hand and leads me upstairs in the building, into a bathroom with grey tiles and the occasional patch of mold. "You may not like this, but trust me, the best way to protect your identity is changing your appearance. Your hair, we need to cut it. And dye it."

"O-okay, if we have to." I nod, glancing at the selection of hair dye he's admiring in one of the cupboards.

"How about silver? Most people dye their hair these days, you'll fit in well." I nod at his decision, letting him sit me down on the side of the bathtub and begin to apply the cream to my hair, his hands now protected by plastic gloves. Afterwards, we wait for almost an hour before washing it out. "Let's give you some bangs, and maybe cut it a little shorter."

I watch in awe as he cuts my hair like a professional, giving me a new, more stylish look. When he's done, he hurries out of the bathroom, returning with some clothes.

"These are my sisters, she left them the last time she visited. Here. I'll go find you some contacts." He disappears out of the room in a flurry, leaving me time to get changed into a pair of black shorts and a dark red oversized jumper. He re-enters just as I'm pulling the sneakers on. "I could only find hazel, at least they're lighter than your current eye colour."

After half an hour of struggling, my new look is finally complete. The sound of approaching cars is what sends me into a panic, realising we need to get out of here.

Before they find me.