⇒CHAPTER 6⇐

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Blazing Sun coming in through the open door, but the room seems cold. I can't breathe. Why wouldn't they tell me?

"Minhee," Taehyung in on my heels, trying to calm me down.

"Shut it," I can't deal with him right now.

"Come on," He starts but Jimin cuts him off.

"Leave it be," His voice is thick with emotion, barely above a whisper. I can't look at him. This is too much. My heart is breaking. Why wouldn't they tell me? Why would they let me find out like this?

"Minhee," I don't know what to say. I turn to him, forcing myself to make eye contact. His dark brown eyes look so sad, it brings me to tears. Why did no one tell me?

"I'm so sorry, Minhee," Namjoon stares at the ground. No one seems able to look anyone in the face. I look down and see the blood spattered across my bright pink work shirt. I might puke.

"We didn't think it'd put you in danger," Jiwon adds, placing her uninjured hand on my arm gently, "I'm so sorry," I jerk away from her, my hands up, my left palm shooting with pain.

"The thing is, you shouldn't be sorry," I have no reason to be upset. This is none of my business. None of this is. I look down at my hand. The bleeding hasn't stopped, it'll probably need stitches. "Y'all don't know me. So why should you tell me these things?" My words come out with unintended venom.


~~~~~~~~~


My alarm goes, its high pitch squeal ripping me from my dreams. I sit up and a tear runs down my cheek. That was awful. I try to banish it from my thoughts, but every second of it lingers. In the dream I knew something, but all I'm left with are those words. I know that room. It was the tiny entryway to the firehouse. Urgh, my alarm is still screeching at me. I punch the big snooze button on top before turning it off. I have thirty minutes to get ready for work.



I scramble around my room getting ready. I pull on clean jeans and sift through my dresser looking for a work shirt, only to find the pink one. Nope. I keep searching. I have three uniform shirts, each a different fluorescent shade. I give up on my dresser and turn to my hamper, there's the blue one but it's filthy. There's the orange one, also too dirty to wear. Dammit. Pink it is then. I pull my hair into a ponytail and angrily shove my tan Sandwich Shop baseball cap on.



As I brush my teeth, I stare at my reflection. Will it be today? How long do I have before this happy pink shirt is blotched and stained with blood? Urgh, this is no way to start the day. Normally I like my reflection, it's not that I'm vain, but I feel like my appearance suits me. I get mistaken for other people a lot, which means I have one of 'those' faces. Whatever that means. My favorite part of my appearance was always my eyes. Weirdly dark against my light brown hair and fair complexion, my eyes usually look black in anything less than bright sunlight. Unfortunately, I can't think about my eyes anymore without thinking about that stupid prophecy, and then the firehouse, and then my stupid dream, and now I'm right back where I started. This is my favorite work shirt and it's going to get all bloody and gross.


No. It was a dream, and I am being an idiot. On the other hand, I've been on speaking terms with a ghost and briefly met a teenage demon-worshipping soldier of Hell, so I probably shouldn't write this off. Either way I have to go to work. I rummage through my sock drawer, grabbing the first two I find.


"Gooooood Moooorrrnningg Snooowfllaaake!" A giddy shout echoes from the kitchen. No. not today. I try not to smile. I try to force my face into a disapproving glare as I put on my sneakers and exit my room. I turn into the kitchen to find Jin. Of course. I hope this doesn't turn into a daily thing.


•𝑶𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑰𝑫𝑬•【√】Donde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora