~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

I can hear them yelling from upstairs, even though the pillow is held tightly over my ears. I've always heard everything- the cursing of my mother that she married such a man so young when she was going to have me.

I hear the sound of the slap, the crying, when the beer bottles fall off the counter and inevitably break, followed by the swearing that my mother is unable to avoid.

This was my life.

I didn't attend school, as we weren't legally allowed to live here and we didn't want anyone seeing our address.

That being said, living in a neighborhood as sketchy as this, I didn't know many children.

I didn't even know myself.

~~~~~~~~

I sit alone at the park, staring at the swing set. Once upon a time, Mother used to take me here for fifteen minutes of peace. She'd put me in the swing and push... I'd get my taste of how it felt to fly.

As I stare at it, barely thirteen, wanting nothing more than to return to those days where I could pretend to like a bird.

"Are you new here? I was new here last month." A boy sits next to me.

"I'm not new."

"Ah, are you in private school then? I've never seen you before. You must be rich, huh?"

"Yes." I lie, watching the swing set and not looking at him.

"Wow." He follows my gaze. "Do you want to swing?"

"I don't know how."

"I'll push you then! My name is Mark!"

"Um, Jimin."

~~~~~~~

"Get out!" My father's hand connects with my cheek, leaving a bright red hit.

I wince as I'm pushed onto the front lawn. I look at the setting sun, sighing as I find a tree to curl up under for the night.

I shut my eyes, blocking out memories and trying to loose myself to the release of sleep.

"Ah, mom! That's Jimin!"

I open my eyes as I see Mark hop the fence to my house.

"Markie, This is an abandoned lot, be careful! There could be nails or broken glass, and your shoes are broken!"

"Yes mom!" He calls back. "Do you want to sleep at my place instead of here?"

"... Can I?"

"Come on." His mother smiles at me, and she reminds me of my own mother from many years ago.

I open the gate with the code, and his mother wraps her scarf around me warmly.

"Come on, this way."

~~~~~~

The door to their opens.

"Y/N! We're home!" Mark calls.

"Y/N?" I ask.

"She's my sister! She's very cute, and she's only a year younger than us!"

A door opens from down the hall, and a head pokes out. It's emotionless, and takes one glance at me before looking to her mother. "Who's this?"

"This is Jiminie!" Mark smiled at me, and the mother walked to Y/N to try and get her to come out.

"He's Markie's friend. He's going to spend the night with us."

She glances at me one last time before locking her bedroom door.

"She's cute, right?" Mark smiled at me.

"Yeah... But she doesn't like me."

"Y/N doesn't like people." His mother explains. "I'm sure she'll warm up to you. Markie, why don't you run Jimin a bath? He's covered in dirt. And get him some of your clothes too, okay?"

~~~~~~~~

"Aren't you mad I lied to you?" I ask as Mark starts prepping the bathroom.

"I figured you were when we met. But that's okay. I thought you were just playing pretend. I like to play pretend too. It helps me forget that I don't have many friends." Mark smiles at me. "So we can play pretend together."

And that was when we bonded.

~~~~~~

It became agreed that if anything ever happened at home, I could come to their home and sleep on the couch. It was nicer than home, although not perfect.

Y/N never spoke much to me, or rather at all. I knew there was something wrong, as I would catch Mark staring after her as she left a room and hear her mother crying late at night.

I began practically living with them as my situation at home grew worse.

One night at dinner, Mark's mom clears . "Jiminie, there's something I want to ask."

Across the table, I watch Y/N stiffen as she watched her mother. Her intense stare was almost like she was trying to figure out what her mother was thinking before she spoke.

"What is it?" I ask.

"I know you don't feel safe at home, and I don't think your parents are taking very good care of you." She says, and my eyes fall to my plate.

"So... If it's okay with you and your parents, I think it would be better if we looked after you from now on."

"Ah, really?" I couldn't help but smile, but when Y/N rises out of her seat to leave it fades.

"Y/N. Sit." Her mother is firm.

"If you don't listen to me, I won't listen to you." She snaps, leaving the table with her half finished dinner still sitting there.

The familiar noise of her bedroom's lock shutting is clear in the room.

"Ignore her." Mark said. "She's just mad because she thinks you're untrustworthy."

"She doesn't remember what it was like, before we started moving all the time. But that doesn't matter. Jiminie, would you like to live with us?"

"Yes."

~~~~~~~~~

"Mother, do you know Mark?"

"No."

"Ah... I told you about him?"

"I said I don't know him!" She snaps at me and I wince.

"It's about his family. They want to adopt me."

"Well then, get the hell out! It's not like we want you here, you brat!  We've never wanted you!" She throws her cup at me, and it shatters when it hits the floor.

"Uh, I'll go upstairs and grab-"

"No, just get out!" She hisses. "I don't want to see you. Get out of my sight."

~~~~~~~~

I walk home from the park, happy. The familiar twists and turns of the road will take me home to my family. Mom, Mark, and Y/N. Even though it's really only been a month since they started treating me like another son, it's been the best month of my life.

Mom never yells, even when Y/N challenges her authority. She just scolds and reminds her of her place. And not only that, but she never forgets to praise. She thanks us when we put our plates in the sink after dinner, and when we make our beds and when she sees us getting along.

This is my dream family.

Who cares that they're not rich? They love me (well, at least Mom and Mark do) and they love eachother. As I head inside the house, I watch as Y/N and Mark pack things away quickly, almost frantically.

"What's going on?" I ask, watching them.

"Oh, Jiminie!" Mom comes out of her bedroom, and wraps me into a tight hug. I know from her bright red eyes she's been crying.

"What is it?" I ask her.

"There... There was a gunman at Y/N's school this morning, looking for her. We're moving." She explains.

"Ah... Y/N, are you okay?" I ask her. She looks at me, then her mother, then back at me.

"I'm fine. Thanks."

"I'm glad to hear that."

She nods, before returning to his work.

"Why are you crying?" I turn back to Mom. "Is something wrong?"

"Jiminie... We never had time to finish the papers."

Oh.

"... What happens to me?"

"I don't know. Maybe they can put you in an orphanage while we work out the papers and send you to us when they're done or something." She tries her best to sound hopeful, but even she sounds like she knows it's a lost cause.

There's a knock on the door.

"Y/N, get it. That'll be Jared."

She walks past, getting the door. She seems so calm, despite her life being on the line mere hours before.

A government agent comes in, and hands my mother an envelope. "Four tickets, leaves in five hours. It heads to a small town in Spain."

"Four?" Mom says confused. "But I thought-"

"Consider it one last favour." He said, leaving almost immediately.

As the door shuts behind him, Mom bursts back into tears. Only these are happy tears, and they're for me.

I cry too.

~~~~~~~~

It took a year and a half for Y/N to learn to trust me and treat me like Mark. It was only when the A.S.C confronted us in a bookstore and I put myself between her and the gun she realized she could learn to relax around me.

After that, she started doing all the things around me- she would start conversations with me, leave her door unlocked, and even sleep on my lap. It became one of her favourite things to do, as she'd sleep on my lap on the lawn while I watched the stars.

"Hey! Jiminie!" I snap out of my daze as I hear Y/N at my bedroom door.

"Uh, yeah?"

"Didn't you hear me calling? Dinner is ready. Mom made pasta shells, your favourite." She smiles, and I love it because I know that that one smile was just for me.

"It's your favourite too."

"Yeah, but you know she made them for you, not me. She asked for you. She didn't get to pick me." Y/N extends her hand to me. "Come on. Stop whatever school bull you're working on and come downstairs."

I stand and take it as she leads me downstairs, through the hall and to the kitchen.