My updates are starting to become sloppy sorry. But I feel happy my friend thought me how to write their names in Korean.
Jimin's POV 박지민
"Hey kid, are you lost?" She questions with a rough tone and a slight glare directed down at me. I try to gulp down the nervous clump clogging my throat, clearing it by slightly coughing.
"No....Ms," I squeak out, thankful that my voice didn't crack under this uncomfortable pressure.
With her unwelcoming stare, I feel like she's judging me greatly and I didn't even do anything for her to criticize me yet.
Why does she seem so cold to me.
"Then why are you here?," she stats, her voice booming loudly in my ear. She seems to be already preparing to close the door on me, probably going to slam it in my face if my answer doesn't please her.
"Um... I'm here to see Kim Taehyung," I answer, but going by her confused look when I said his name, I doubt if I'm even at the right house; even though this is the only other house in the woods except for mine." He lives here right?"
She doesn't go to assure my doubt or correct my misunderstanding, and I'm contemplating if I have to say it louder for her tall self to hear me all the way down here with our height difference.
"Yeah, he lives here," she says after a few moments of glaring me up and down. " But who wants to know?"
"Oh my bad," I apologize as that's probably why she was eyeing me like that. A total stranger walks up to your door asking about a young family member, who wouldn't be suspicious. "My name is Park Jimin," I slightly bow, extending my hand to shake hers but not receiving it in the end.
Before it looks too awkward I let out a nervous laugh as I pull it back to my side, my hand slowly snaking up to the back of my neck as I slightly rub it by habit.
Her face didn't seem to budge from its tight frown, keeping her arms behind her back as she leans against the door frame. This woman looks like a soldier general by how stiff she's standing.
"What do you want with my son," she bluntly questions, skipping the generic adult chatter to what she actually wants to know.
"I kinda need to talk to him," I claimed, getting a little uncomfortable as I remember why I have to talk to him.
Wait. Son?
It's his mom; no wonder something seemed familiar. Now that I know, I can see the resemblance in there faces and their rough personality around strangers.
Hold up, this can't be right.
He told me she died long time ago. Maybe he was talking about someone else and I just wasn't listening close enough.
"What's your relationship with Taehyung," she questions seriously, not taking her piercing gaze off of me for a second.
"We're," I begin, but I don't know where this sentence leads. What's our relationship? I haven't thought about it now, and when I've drawn up the matter, my mind goes blank.
"I'd say we're pretty close.... friends." I breathe, starting over with the sentence I began. My words feel fabricated, like I just pronounced sounds than say what I actually felt. But I couldn't think of anything, and I'd say we're pretty close, well until recently.
"How long have you known Taehyung?" She throws another question at me before I even finish answering the first one properly.
But why is she asking so much? Has he never talked about me? I talk about him more than I breathe air. He hasn't mentioned a word about me.
How should I feel about this? I thought I was important enough to be talked about with a family member of his. Maybe I only thought that way.
"Like the beginning of summer Mrs," I flatly mutter, not feeling as enthusiastic as when I arrived or as nervous as when she opened the door, I just feel.... empty in a way.
Ok," she affirmed as she effortlessly steps back, already beginning to close the door in my face.
"Wait," I panicked and I don't know why but I through my body forward, stopping the door before it completely shuts.
She swings it open with an annoyed look on her face, or maybe I'm just imaging it because a mom will never make that face. Well whatever it is, it doesn't matter; there's a reason I came here today. "Can I see him?"
I spot her roll her eyes, but I still find it hard to believe. "He left to live with his grandmother." She grumbled loudly, letting her agitated state be clear as day for me.
Some part in what she said didn't sound right, or rather the whole thing sounded fake. I give her a look, but I keep my head low so she can't see it. For some reason, I don't believe her.
"Oh really," I over exaggerated my words, acting surprised enough to be believable. "Well, Mrs I brought a pie. I wouldn't want to waste it."
She seems to cringe at the situation, probably at the thought of having to use her hands. Her hands have suspiciously been kept behind her back, or maybe I'm being over paranoid.
"Please take it Mrs," I literally shove it in her face, giving the most fake smile I can muster up.
"I have to wash my hands," she grunts out, quickly flashing a quick fake smile and closes the door to where there's only a crack to look through. I try to push it open more but the creaking of the old hinges throws me off.
She'll hear my if I opened the door.
She comes back wiping her hand on a mini towel, whatever was on her hands stained the white towel a washed out pink.
I hand her the pie slowly as I scan over her. The look on her face, her body language, even how shes abnormally breathed hard at this moment.
My gaze gets caught like a fish in a net on a strange crimson stain sitting on her dress, and all I can hope is that it's not blood. But as I stare longer at it, I refuse to just lightly think about anything with this woman.
"Mrs Kim I think you have blood on your dress." Her eyes widen at my words, and her eyes dart slowly and creepy to the exact place I'm looking. "Are you ok Mrs?"
She does a swift motion to hide it, and then I catch a glimpse of something; something petrifiying.
My heart starts to beat in my ears like I'm trapped in a room with someone playing drums. And that beat blocks out everything including my sight around me. My thoughts are going dark, and I'm terrified that I might be right.
She looks fine.
She didn't look in pained when she opened the door.
So why is there blood on the floor.
Why is there so much.
And why is there a trail.
To the place where Taehyung got trapped.
Her body blocks the whole frame of the door again, but my eyes keep a detailed image of what I saw. I carefully look up at her with an uncertain gaze, and I can feel all the color drain not just from my face, but my entire body.
She looks down at me with a different aura around her, and her eyes scream that she wouldn't hesitate to stab me in the throats right then and there.
I feel like I've been caught.
"Yeah." Her words come out lower and slower now, like she can pounce on me any second. "I'm fine." But as she stares daggers at me longer, a grin forms on her face that wasn't human. It looked like hell itself.
I need to leave. I need to get away from her.
"Well, I've got to go but it was nice meeting you Mrs," I struggle to keep my voice steady, but it's cracks badly right in the middle.
She does a little giggle, and even though it's such an innocent gesture, she somehow tainted it.
"Someone's going through puberty," she jokes with the same creepy grin on her face. My laugh sounds lifeless and forced, but at least I was able to get something out of my mouth.
She finally close the door and I turn and dart off home in one motion, running faster than I've ever ran.
I don't have a good feeling about this.
---
For the rest of the day, my visit to his house kept replaying in my mind. Even as I lay in my bed staring at the dark ceiling, my thoughts become the strongest.
Taehyung always told me his mom was dead. I assumed he meant that she died, so I didn't question further into his words. I got a strange feeling when he was talking about her when his face and tone looked like he was spitting out pure hatred, but I ignored that.
I didn't know what he meant at the time. But now I think I get it once I've met her.
She's probably not acting like the same person she used to be. She used to be kinder.
And that blood stain. It was dried, like it's been a good few hours since it was spilled.
The cogs in my mind start to turn the more I think. Taehyung never liked her so that means he'd try to avoid her as much as possible.
He only comes out in the day and goes home before it even starts getting dark. When I said we slept outside his face drained of color.
Now that I think about it, those bruises he had didn't look like ones you'd get from falling down stairs.
I was suspicious about it, but I was afraid if I resurrected the matter again we'll fight once more, and I might make him cry again.
And how he locked himself in the basement, that doesn't make sense. But what triggers me the most is that he asked me how to pick a lock. He knew it was going to happen again.
So there's only one place he could be. He didn't go to live with his grandparents, he's still in the house.
I'll back there again in the morning, she shouldn't be there.
I close my eyes and attempt to sleep.
I hope I'm just overthinking nothing, and Tae's actually ok.