𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫. | BTS |

chapter 100 ~ 𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒖𝒕

CONTAINS STRONG LANGUAGE, MINOR EXPLICIT CONTENT, USE OF WEAPONS, & ANGST

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     I stuttered and sobbed as I leaned heavily against the door. It was pitch black inside the closet and I could just hear the light steps of Yura's feet as he walked to different places throughout the house. He came back to my door once or twice to fiddle with the bolt he'd screwed and pounded into place along its frame, but after that, all went quiet. I pleaded through the wood at my ex to let me go; lied that I would be good and that'd I'd behave as he told me to. No more games. I wouldn't try and run away. Anything to get out of that room.

     "Do you think I'm that stupid!?" Yura snapped at me from the other side. I shut my eyes and tried to imagine the facial expressions that creased his rough, pale skin. "You probably think I am, considering you tried escaping."

      Yura's breath lowered and I felt him shift down to the bottom of the door. He'd dropped down to my level close to the floor, probably kneeling, as if I were a pathetic little dog panting beneath him.

      "Yura, let me out!" I cried. "Please!?"

      "Why should I? You're not going to behave; I already know that. All you can think about is escaping and going back to those freaks back in Seoul!"

       "I'm sorry!"

       "You're not sorry." He scoffed and picked himself up off the ground. "Do you really think I'm that bad of a person, Yumin?"

      Yes. 

      "No," I whimpered. "Yura, I'm s-sorry. I won't-"

      "You won't, nothing, Yumin-ah. I'm not letting you out of there for a while."

       A sob built up in my throat and I curled into myself. My arms were beginning to ache from being held so tightly behind me, but if I was in there long enough, soon something or other would distract me from the irritating feeling. I listened to the soft footsteps of my abuser as he padded away down the hall and left me by myself in the dark, cramped space of the broom closet. I could kick my legs out in front of me and be able to hit the opposite wall, roll about on the floor, and hit every corner of every surface in such a tight space. There I was again, two years later, the same place, but this time beaten and handcuffed with no sensible thought running through my head.

      I was almost too calm for a situation such as that, but after so many years of Yura's bullshit, I'd learned only to settle down when things couldn't progress positively in my direction. I was trapped and I had no idea for how long. Now that time played a much more important role in my current position, I began to think of food. My stomach growled and I realized I hadn't eaten since the prior morning.

      How long have I been in here? An hour. Two? It could've been nightfall for all I knew, but with no window and no light within the closet, I couldn't tell a damn thing.

      I shouldn't have gone outside, I scolded myself. I should've told Yoongi and we could've called the cops. 

      "We could've called someone," I sniffled, but it was already too late for that. Yoongi would've alerted the authorities by now and they could've been out on the streets in search of me that very moment. What had Yura said? "Yumin's going to get into the truck, and we're going to drive away. You're not gonna call the police, you're not going to tail us, and if you do-"