To say the small girl was traumatized was like putting a band-aid over something that needed heavy duty stitches. If anything, she was numb. Shut off from reality. Almost like a living vegetable. Day after day, she shut herself away. Hiding in blankets piled on her bed, listening to nothing but the silence of the pitter-patter of the rain against the window. Sleepless nights were becoming her new best friend, and unconscious dreams were her arch enemy. But who could blame her? No one. Seok, however, blamed himself everyday. No matter if she was gone, or back home where she was safe and sound. It wasn’t hard to see that many of the kids felt the same way. 

But this chapter, is focused on the smallest one of them all. The one who’s blunt whispers used to bring joy to the family. And her father.. The man who wishes he could have done more to help her in her time of need. 

                            The screams.                                                               The cries.                                                                                                                        The torture.

send “flashback” for a glimpse of my muse’s past

“I SHOULD’VE KILLED YOU WHEN I HAD THE CHANCE,”came the throaty yell from one of his closest friends, her hands balled intotight fists and veins positively popping.Casper, having turned half around at her screams, eventually came to a halt,and watched her with his hands on his hips. Breathing came difficultly for allfour young children, the humidity of a rainy patch of midsummer getting to them. Theyplayed in a wood, some seemingly more emotionally invested than others. Oncehe’d turned around, and let her speak, Casper started to laugh at the girl withginger hair and leaves in her clothes.

“Cas.” Ross reprimanded pleadingly, standing as if he wasuncomfortable in his position between Verla and Casper. The game paused, twomembers of the party building tensions with one as they laughed straight intoher face.

“Igor! It’spart of the GAME.” Verla insisted hotly, and when Casper opened his eyes, hercheeks were as red as her hair. He had to rest against a tree, one hand on thebark and the other across his plump tummy. Igor stood nearby, bent at the waistwith his eyes screwed shut.

“S-steady!” He laughed.

“Yeah,‘s just a game!” Casper added. He opened his eyes just in time to see Verla’sarm pull back to thump him hard onthe arm. His happy fit subsided with a harsh gasp, hands hesitating mid-air ashe decided whether he should hit her on the back as she attended to Igor.Angrily overcast eyes connected with Ross’ brown-eyed gaze. He looked irritatingly smug, but Casper knew thathe had a right to it: to cross Verla was to tempt fate, to embarrass her was toask for a smack. Cas’ tan fistsloosened, right hand rubbing his left upper forearm where he’d been hit.

Igorlet out a similar yelp, though he’d started backing up when he’d seen what hadhappened to Casper, only to then be shoved over. Verla was in charge, they allshould have known that. And now they stood in this tense silence, Igor andCasper dusting themselves off, Verla doing an impression of a red trafficlight, and Ross smirking. The youngest person was most irritated by the latter,feeling the hierarchy momentarily shift. It wasn’t Verla – Igor/Casper – Ross,now it was Verla – Ros – Igor/Casper, and that he couldn’t allow.

“Wipethat big ugly smile of your face,” Casper glared at the eldest, prompting anexasperated side-eye, “or else I’ll do it forya.”

“Yeah,”Ross’ half-lidded, casual stare wound Cas up more, “I’d believe that from Igormaybe, but not you.”

“Youwouldn’ hurt a fly, Cassie.” Igor’s tone was fond, as if the statement wouldn’t critically injure the otherboy.

“Fuck you, I--”

“You’re all bark an’ no bite.” Verla was quick and delighted to add, eyes conveying a special, fleeting show of hatred.

“Fuck you!” An octave higher, Casper felt very ganged up on, and tears started to form. “You don’t know anythin’, I could out fight anyone here.”

A bout of laughter from all around, but he didn’t wait for it to clear. Little Cas turned on his heels, whacked his shoulder into a tree (accidentally), and stormed in the opposite direction. He had places to be, crying DEFINITELY NOT TO BE DONE.

None the less, no turning back now, right? Even so, by the time he finally did get to the brothel, he was about ready to collapse. Seeing one of the familiar faces at the front desk, he only had to say a few simple words;

               “Where’s my father?” 

↭「 W-well, you c-cer-tainly           ar-r-ren’t human. 」