The Apocalypse

Chapter 10

He holds me closer, protectively.

The gun holding monster comes closer, still keeping the gun aimed on Yoongis forehead.

He stops when he's about rulers length away from Yoongis face. "It sure would be a shame if your pretty asian boyfriend died,"

My eyes widen in anger, pulling Yoongi closer to me, the gun still followed as if it were glued to his forehead.

I possesively cling onto his arm because this is what the apocalypse has done to us, turned us into animals, my 'uncle' almost took away everything, he's not getting Yoongi too.

"Call me uncle, please?"

"Then will you go away," I swallow my pride, like literally I had to gulp because I hated that word so much "uncle," I say through gritted teeth.

His signature side-smirk of slyness decorates his horrid face. "As per usual, I'd love to play along with your little charade of acting tough," he pats my head, I smack his hand away.

"Never, touch me again," I glare up at him, my eyes now glistening with unshed tears "murderer."

"Right, right," he says, a terrible habit I picked up from him when I was a child, at least he's not denying it. He knows what he is.

"But I'm sorry, I gotta do this little missy," the next thing I realize is him trying to knock Yoongi out with the back of his gun.

I pull Yoongi back and propel myself forward, receiving the blow to the head instead of him.

The next thing I remember is falling back into Yoongi's arms while he yells out something. English or Korean I don't know it all just sounded like wordless sounds.

~

"Ah fu...dge." I don't even have the energy to sit up. I just attempt to nurse the huge bump on my forehead.

I bet I look like friggin Tom from Tom&Jerry after he gets hit and a mountains worth of swelling appears.

I scan the low ceilings of the room with only 1 noisy air-conditioner barely working in the corner, lilac walls with drawings that decorated the bottom half then it struck my disoriented self.

I know this shit place.
It's my shit place.

I roll around the fluffy neon blue rug until I hit the hardwood floor. I pull myself up using the mini vanity table, with is flaking white paint, thats was suitable for no one over 10.

I drag myself to a corner and sit as far away as possible from everything. This was my 7 year old self's dream bedroom. Almost everything in it was built by my uncle and I, back when I used to spend every weekend at his place.

It was perfectly maintained, except for the vanity table but that was mum's, makes sense as to why that'd be the one thing he'd neglect.

There's a rapping on the door. "Yoongi?" I ask despite already knowing it won't be him.

I hear the key turning in the lock, then slowly the door creaks open. "Mornin',"

"Where's Yoongi?" I coldly ask, not shifting from my corner.

He stays by the door, already knowing I'll try to run. "You mean your Japanese boyfriend?"

"He's Korean and he's not my boyfriend,"

"He put up a semi decent fight, he's really quick on his feet, but I knocked him out too. He couldn't really speak English, he'd be useless, so I left him there. They could've got to him, free food ya know,"

Hearing that shatters something within me. Like a brand new glass phone screen that he just dropped it on the floor.

I didn't know Yoongi as well as the others and he barely knew me yet he was ready to attack an armed man for my sake, in fact he did. Most people I know back at fort9 wouldn't do the same, that says alot about Yoongi.

He's one of the few good people left. And he and the 6 others mean the world to each other, in a way a part of each of them died along with him. He hurt all of them and me too.

I wanted to yell at him like I did last time, to scream and shout, tear his head off. But it still won't bring Yoongi back.

If only I'd stayed another day. None of this would have happened.

"Congrats, a new addition to your list," my voice is thick from holding back everthing; fury, grief, remorse.

He places a plate of food on the dresser near the door and walks out the room, locking it once more.

I remain in my corner, bringing my knees to my chest, I lay my face on them. Swallowing the reality of everything that just happened.

I hated him and I also hated myself. If I'd just stayed 1 more night instead of foolishly galavanting out on my own none of this would've happened.

If I'd just tried to not be the hero and leave alone so that there'd be no painful goodbyes, he'd still be alive.