FOREVER. newt

five. the medical room

WARNING: suicide

With my arms crossed infront of my chest, I watch as one of the Right Arm kids, who I think was named Isaac, uses his final strength to cut through the final kid's chain in the right corner of the compartment, with him letting out a sigh of relief as he manages to cut the kid free.

I tried to muster a soft smile for a kid. He had just been tortured and seeing me frowning would probably not be a pleasant experience for him. Handing him a a pack of food and wrapping a blanket around the kid, as I finish, I tell him to go follow Harriet who was leading them over to Vince.

Sighing, I walk out of the rail car with my hands in the jacket Newt had once owned. With the sunlight almost blinding me, I squint as I watch the kids huddle in a group on the shore while Vince explains our plan to them.

Hearing him say everything— I didn't know if I was angry at myself anymore. I knew it was selfish, because it was still my responsibility, but there's this voice in my brain trying to blame those two Right Arm guys.

I look at the floor, see a bunch of pebbles, and I decide to kick it as far as I could in an attempt to distract myself. There's no use in getting mad right now; all you have to do is ask Aris and Sonya if Minho and Jisung were really in the train. If they were, that's when you get mad. If they weren't, go do some breathing exercises and take a sleeping pill.

Glancing up to see the amount of rescuees in front of us, I know that I should be happy that we managed to at least save a few kids.

But I wasn't.

And I wasn't content on it— because Minho and Jisung weren't here.

-

Helping the rescued kids somehow helped with the feeling of guilt and anger suffocating me.

The fact that I call them 'kids' is somehow funny, considering that most of them were either my age or older than me. A lot of them were already nineteen, some were eighteen, a few were seventeen, and the rest were fourteen to sixteen.

"Vince is calling me over to go help some kids at the dock," Naomi explained, taking her medical box as she sits upright. The woman walks out of the door, and from the corner of my eyes, I could see Aris and Sonya enter in.

"Hey guys," I offer them a tired smile, pointing to two chairs for them to sit on. The pair agree immediately, and I walk over towards my kit, deciding to grab the whole thing when I see how severe Aris' wounds are.

It's quiet for a moment. I wasn't necessarily good in making conversations— especially with two kids who had just been tortured and brought to hell and back. Thank god the rest of my friends entered the room, offering the two drinks and food so that they'd replenish themselves.

"Thanks, Nini."

I chuckle softly, taking my eyes away from the cotton bud to acknowledge Aris, but my breath hitches when I see that it isn't him.

I'm in a room. I have blood on my hands. I'm twelve.

"Thanks, Nini." the same sentence again, but now in a completely different voice and scenario. Jisung— his thirteen year old self— offering me a cheeky smile as I pat the medicine on his cut.

"You don't have to thank me, Jisung. But please do me a favor and don't fall through eight flights of stairs again." it feels like a dream. The words are coming out of my mouth without my command and I am only forced to listen to myself.

"You know," Jisung leans backwards, shooting me a toothy grin. "You're really nice, Nini. Minho and Alby keep on calling me stupid. I mean, I know I am, but they really don't need to repeat it every time."