SOFT BUN || markhyuck

32.

Those who escape from hell however never talk about it and nothing much bothers them after

I wanted to think that.

I wanted to think that... but I couldn't.

The sky was filled with black thundering clouds. Rain poured over me, as I dragged my feet in the mud of the street, of the ever-familiar town. Everything felt like it was angry at me. The pain; physically and mentally. My wounds on the face burned as each drop of rain slid over it, yet I couldn't dwell on it as my mind was oozing with hatred. For everything. For myself. For what I had to go through. For what he had to go through. I was not at fault, I couldn't possibly be, right? I asked no one around, lifting my eyes off my feet to the surrounding.

No matter how much I try to hide my feelings, regarding that place as hell, torturous, disgusting, what better was the place which I stood in front of now? No matter how much I try avoiding the talk of the past month, it can't possibly stop bothering me. I knew that. I knew what I left behind. I knew that if I didn't, something much worse could've happened. Not to me. Haechan. But who would believe me?

I leaned my hand on the door, trying to keep steady, the cold must've gotten to my head already. (that rhymed unintentionally)

Sliding my fingers off the rotten wood door, banging it once, twice. Shuffling could be heard on the other side, and soon the door opened, revealing the woman I dreaded all my life. Now, she was merely just flesh and bones with a bitchy attitude that I could rip to pieces without any problem. I noticed the confusion and fear in her eyes when she saw me. I liked to think it was because I was there without any notice, not because of the blood I had on my clothes and the bruises all over my face. When no response was heard I stepped forward, the woman gave way immediately, never questioning anything. Maybe she finally started to use her brain before her mouth.

The wood underneath my feet felt different. I took a deep breath, trying to keep calm, lately, I've been having this keen urge to just cry. I wondered if I was meant to be happy in life? Why did I not deserve love? Keeping my eyes focused on the stairs, where my room was, I wondered if any of these motherfucker had laid a finger on my belongings. I was ready to rip them off their hands. Turning my neck to the right, the little bitch and the two assholes stood there, confused as ever. I scoffed, even watching them for a few seconds made me sick.

'Pathetic,' I muttered my first word in this house again, yet loud enough for them to hear. It would be better to keep them in place now than deal with their shit later. This time, I turned my body to the side, two steps forward, leaving the luggage at the bottom of the stairs, eyes fixed on the only bitch that liked to mess with me before, I stopped not too far away from her, I reached out my hand covered in my own dried blood somehow. I didn't know myself how it managed to get there, but I noticed it when banging the door. She glanced at my hand and back at my face wondering what I was doing.

'What the fuck is wrong with you, did you get your brain screwed or something?' she took a step back.

I smiled, not at all, just a little fun in murder and torture.

It was odd. I kept thinking about how I wasn't afraid to cut these fucking cunts to pieces anymore. I glanced back to auntie in the doorway, when I saw her before I felt my heartbeat pick up, at first for a second I thought I was scared to come back here, but I was just excited how I actually didn't feel any kind of fear anymore. In fact, I felt great. Running my tongue on my lower lip, I figured something did screw my brain after all.

'Dinner-' auntie interrupted the silence in the room, '-would you.... would you like to have it with us?' Did she wrap her arms around her as if trying to keep herself safe, from me? The woman asked the question, failing terribly at the effort of smiling while doing so. I only saw her face twitch as if she was afraid.

Magnificent.

Just the fear I wanted to let crawl inside their tiny pathetic hearts. I would understand them because that's exactly how I felt when I first met Katsu. I understood how that man felt when he saw fear in all those people's eyes, that delicious feeling of inferiority. I indeed felt great.

'No,' I smiled, walking her- to the luggage, 'I'll see you at breakfast,' taking both the luggage in hands, I climbed up the stairs to my ever precious room in the attic.

in my head, the chapter felt longer