@neurcxses​

the first emotion chaerin could remember was fear.

it was vivid, still vibrant even up to this day. she was three, could even barely form proper words nor walk without tripping on her own stubby legs. whenever chaerin thought about this memory, she could still feel the racing of her heart and the trembling of her legs.

after all, how could a child get over the image of her father slapping her mother across the face? yelling at each other about not paying the rent, about having another girl over while her mother was away. a three year old couldn’t comprehend these issues.

but a three year old could feel fear.

for most of her life, chaerin had been afraid. afraid of the people around her, afraid of making friends, afraid of her own potential. perhaps it was the inferiority complex that developed from being looked down upon, from being treated like you didn’t matter by the people you thought would love you for who you were. or perhaps it was just her personality.

but sometimes, people had been living in fear long enough that they became friends with it. with chaerin? fear was her best friend. fear was the familiar feeling in her chest as the handle of the gun met with the soft flesh of her cheek, it was the trembling of her knees as they told her she was going to die that night. all because of millions of dollars worth of debt. but it was also fear that made her stand up for herself and for her drunken father, too drunk to even defend himself from the armed men.

she was tired of being afraid and perhaps now really was her time. she’d lived a short life, unsatisfying and boring. she almost pitied herself for the fact that the most exciting part of her life was going to be her death. up until today, she was almost sure that being taken against your will, a gun to your head only happened in the afternoon dramas she watched whenever she had time. but no, this was her reality.

and chaerin was ready to face her reality.

she was so scared, so terrified and yet she didn’t let a single tear fall as they dragged her out of her house and into the car, telling her that she was going to meet her fate. the whole ride, chaerin was preparing herself to die.

“get out.” she heard one of the men tell her, harshly grabbing her by the arm. she didn’t even know where she was, a blindfold wrapped around her eyes. what were they going to do? shoot her from the back? perhaps blow her head off? that would be better wouldn’t it?

her knees were trembling, but she followed him, the chatter of men growing incrementally. fear. fear was her best friend.

“she’s here boss.” she heard him say. she knew who their boss was, that filthy old man. “fucking spat in my face. the old man’s knocked out, you remember her father ‘aight? good for nothing son of a bitch had an even worse spawn.”

there was a grab at her hair, pushing her forward but chaerin didn’t even flinch. was the boss going to kill her? how important could she be!

“what d’you want us to do with her? she’s kind of a pretty face too… it’d be a waste, y’know what i mean?”