𝕷𝖚𝖓𝖆

➸ 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕿𝖜𝖔

YERIM HISSES OUT SOFTLY as she wakes up to a sharp pain in her abdomen, while sitting up, leaning against the wall for support. Blinking a few times to adjust to the minimal light filtering into the room, she glances around her surroundings and easily makes out that she is in her own room. Groaning a few times while leaning against her right arm to support herself, she lets out a shaky breath while peering down at her shirt, which is stained red.

Sighing softly before biting her lips, she lifts her shirt up and flinches at the sight of the purple bruise that has formed at her stomach, along with some whip marks that have opened, which ends up bleeding. It is going to swell. Shaking her head, she then lowers her shirt while closing her eyes at the scene of her father hitting her, replays in her mind, causing her to shudder slightly.

No matter how many times she has been brutally abused, she can still remember her father's dark eyes every time he raises his hand to hit her, but she can't remember the number of times he hit her for it is countless. She then reaches around her neck, as she recalls the part where her father was strangling and choking her a few hours ago, shivering slightly as she mumbles lowly to herself, "It is surprising how I even managed to survive tonight."

Glancing at the sky, she guesses that midnight is approaching and that means the meeting between the two packs has officially begin, for packs meetings tend to start at midnight where their wolves' dominant sides tend to show. She then tilts her head slightly, as the gears in her brain begin to move while making her own calculations to estimate the time that the meeting will end.

"Three hours. I have three hours," she whispers to herself while standing up as she clutches her abdomen. Staggering towards her bag which is lying on the floor beside the door, she picks it up, as a soft wince escapes from her as she bends down. Staggering towards her bed where she collapses on it, she rips open her bag and pours out the contents ― pencil case, files, notebooks and everything else inside.

Reaching for a box that is hidden below her bed, Yerim winces slightly as she brushes her burnt hand against the metal box, scrunching her nose slightly as the cool texture touches her wound, leaving a slight burning sensation.  Prying open the lid, she studies the contents within it ― cash in the form crumpled notes and some loose coins, a necklace and a knife.

Grabbing the money which total up to an amount of fifty bucks, she stuffs it into her back pocket. Yerim then reaches for the knife, turning it around to inspect the blade that gleams brightly under the moonlight before slotting it into her boots. And finally, she picks up the silver necklace that seems so familiar to her, yet she has no idea what it is about.

Yerim stares at the pendant – a silver wolf standing on all its paws and howling before turning it around, noticing the little initials that are designed at the back.

K.Y.R

Yerim tilts her head at the sight of the initials, mouthing it slowly before shrugging her shoulder as she hooks it around her neck. Bending down again, she reaches for another bigger box that is filled with some old clothes. Yerim then stuffs a few shirts along with shorts into her bag, before standing up with slight difficulty, throwing the bag over her shoulder.

As she touches the handle of her knife hidden at her boots, a rush of relief and comfort runs through her. I can't stay here any longer. I rather die in the hands of a rogue than in the hands of this family. I rather die in the middle of the woods than here.I am going to run away.

Yerim nods her head firmly, before opening the door of her room, listening to the total silence of the house as a small smile makes its way to her face.

Crouching down behind the thick bush, Yerim spots the same two guards that are standing by the boundaries and raises an eyebrow at the sight of them nodding off. Making a face while mentally cursing at them for being the main cause of her injuries, she adjusts her bag again when she catches on to some anxious footsteps and voices coming from the right.