Chapter 2 - Running Away

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I was thrown backwards into the brick wall. The rain splashed onto my face. A pool of streetlight shined onto my face.
The dark figure standing in front of me laughed and threw in another hard punch. I winced softly as pain seared through my body.

Dark liquid oozed out of my cuts. I knew I was losing. I spat blood out of my mouth and charged forward.

"PARK JIMIN!"
My sister rushed into the hospital wing and grabbed my shoulders. "Are you okay? Where are you hurt? Your face! Does it hurt a lot?" she blabbed nervously, examining my body.
"I'm fine." I mumbled back, pushing her away. Her eyes filled with tears, making my heart clench.
"You're not okay...why do you keep pushing me away? Why are you getting into fights everyday? You're already battered and bruised all over your body," she cried, "I wake up every morning from the calls from the hospital, asking me to pick you up! I can't deal with this anymore, you're the only relative I have! I don't want to lose you too!"
I glared angrily at my sister. She sat down onto the bed and reached for my hand. "Father wouldn't want to see you like this..."
"I don't care about what that person thinks of me! He abandoned us! You know that too! He's never coming back!" I yelled.
I stood up and ran. Running away was the only thing I could do. What else can I do? The pain and fear was too great. I'm living my life like hell.

- 3 months ago -
"I'll be going on a business trip for a week, children. Take care of yourselves."
He left us just like that. What a lame excuse. I knew something was fishy. I told my sister but she didn't believe me. Or should I say, her trust in Dad was too great.

All these years, he 'took care' of us. He spent all his money and time in gambling. We knew what he was doing. He lied to us each day. Dressing up in a suit. Telling us about his occupation. Coming back home in a drunk state, yelling nonsense, hitting us, falling asleep and waking up with a terrible headache. We knew the truth. It was no job.
He was just spending all the money that he inherited. The money that was meant for us. The money he ran away with.

I picked up the framed photograph. My mother smiled brightly back at me, squeezing the hands of a younger version of me. Tears dripped down onto the glass. I wiped it away. She was gone too. A death that should have never happened. He killed her. I know he did. He is a devil disguised as an angel. Hatred filled my heart.

Slamming my fist onto the table, I used my other hand and grabbed the man's collar. "So what if I touched you?!" I yelled.
"Yah! Kid, who do you think you are? Let go of me at once! I don't have time for lousy children!"
Anger controlled my mind. The next minute, I was throwing punches at the man. His friends tugged at my shirt, attempting to pull me off him.

Blood flowed out of my old cuts as they reopened again. The gang of men threw me into a hidden alleyway, kicking my body. I writhed around, trying to find a way to escape. I felt my consciousness slip away. I had given up...

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