21: AROUND THE NEXT BEND

"Passout," by Gaeko (feat. Bumkey)

                Juyoung caught Naeil by the jaw again and forced her to look up at him. “I don’t know if you thought we would never get tired of waiting for you to break down, but we weren’t just playing around. You obviously don’t realize how impatient I am.”

                He crouched down carefully and brought his face close to Naeil’s, majorly invading her personal space. She tried to pull back, but there was nowhere to go.

                “I’m going to ask you some questions,” Juyoung said, “And I'm not going to take any nonsense from you. All you’re going to do is nod yes, or no. Got it?”
                Naeil didn’t think to nod. She stayed frozen. Her brain was desperately searching for a way out of this situation. When Juyoung took a step back, Naeil’s eyes began to survey the room. It looked like there was nothing that could be of use to her. In fact, the room was so full she could barely see anything besides the tall bodies high school boys.

                I need to get out of here!

                Juyoung had begun pacing back in forth, stopping suddenly every now and then to whip out a question in his snappish tone.

                “Did you help Park Jimin hide?”

                No answer.

                “Is that church a hideout for Buk Gil Pa?”

                No answer.

                “Is Min Yoongi working with them?”

                No answer.

                “Are you working with them?”

                No answer.

                “Is Min Yoongi hiding in Seoul right now?”

                Question after question, Juyoung’s interrogation was met with nothing more than glares from Naeil. It wasn’t as if she could accurately answer any of them, but she even if she could, she would rather die than give Juyoung anything he wanted.

                It looked like dying was becoming an increasingly available option.

                Juyoung stopped pacing, right in front of her.

                “Are we going to continue playing this game?”

                Naeil smiled a little, as much as she could manage with a gag on. Finally, she nodded.

                Juyoung growled. He kicked her to the ground, knocking the wind out of her once again. He gave the other boys leave to join in. Then there was nothing but kicks, punches, hair, and agony, barraging Naeil’s senses.

                Naeil suddenly remembered the first time she had seen a school fight. She had wondered what it felt like to be crushed to the floor, unseen fists and feet striking from every angle. She had wondered if the sensations became so extreme after a while, that you would eventually became numb and oblivious to your surroundings. This was not the case at all. She could feel everything, over, and over, and over again.

                Someone grabbed the collar of her shirt, and Naeil felt her body go rigid. The punch to her face came a moment later, but it wasn’t anticipation of a punch that made her body stiffen. As soon as she had felt a hand grab the cloth of her shirt, a new fear had exploded in her mind, fear that they wouldn’t stop at beating.

                Naeil could feel uninvited tears gathering on her eyelids. No...no....why did I have to think of that? She hated that feeling, that terror of possibility; it never completely left her, not after years of training, not after experiencing pain repeatedly. It made her feel weak. She hated that.

                Her mind was so full of conflicting emotions and pain stimulus that there was no room for coherent thought. It was still abuzz when the beating stopped and Juyoung grabbed her face again. He had a knife prodding at the skin of her neck.

                “Dare to scream when I take this gag off and I will kill you.”

                Naeil wondered if she even had the strength to scream right now.

                “I’m going to give you one more chance to tell me something, when I take off this gag. This is your last chance.”

                Juyoung pulled the gag down. Naeil gasped for breath, coughing and relishing the fresh air and saliva entering her dry mouth. Something felt warm and wet on her nose. Naeil wiped it impatiently, but pulled away, surprised at the shot of pain. Her forearm was red with blood.

                “I’m waiting,” said Juyoung.

                Naeil looked up at him. Speaking was an effort, and at first, Naeil couldn’t even get any sounds but gasps out of . What could she tell him? That she didn’t know what on earth he was talking about? That was the truth, but obviously he didn’t want it—or at least he wouldn’t believe her. Could she lie? And if she did, would they just let her go?

                “I…uh…” she rasped. “I…don’t…” She gasped again. So hard to speak. “About…Buk…Gil…Pa. I don’t…know…them—”

                Juyoung raised his fist.

                Something suddenly clicked in Naeil’s brain, and her eyes grew wide. “—But!” she practically screamed. “But, I...I saw…Jimin doing…something out back one day and…I didn’t want to…to say anything about it…because…because…” She chuckled. “Because I really hate you guys.”

                Some of the boys growled after that, but she went on anyway.

                “If I show you…where he was…and what I saw…will you let me go?”

                Juyoung crossed his arms and looked away.

                Please buy it.

                “I’ll think about it,” he said finally. He made a few motions to the others before turning back to Naeil. “Let’s go. We’re putting this gag back on, so you’ll have to point where to go. Don’t bother trying to get help or run away. It’s not going to happen.”

                Two of the iljin grabbed Naeil again, different ones this time. Yelling, again, wasn’t going to be an option, but she was bent on the hope that she could get them to the particular place she was thinking of. So far it seemed like he hadn’t caught on.

                They passed by a few classroom doors, including her own. Naeil looked into each of them, but no one saw. She never knew it was possible for such a crowd of troublemakers to go so unnoticed. Then again, Bul-ui Agma had always gotten around just fine.

                When they went outside, it seemed so quiet. Only footsteps on gravel and whispers of the younger boys in the back filled the air. Naeil felt like there was a rock in her stomach. Had she miscalculated? Maybe he wouldn’t be there. But he had to be. This was her only chance. There was no backup plan. If she took them behind the school and he wasn’t there, she didn’t think she would be able to make up anything else, and she would be in big trouble.

                Please be there.

                She pointed to the bend behind the school. They migrated in that direction. Why did it feel so agonizingly slow?

                Please be working on your freaking mural right now.

                They turned around the bend and Naeil caught sight of a black bag full of spray paint cans. She struggled to hold in physical signs of relief.

                There was Taehyung, standing at the wall, occupied with adding paint to the eye of a face he was working on. At the sound of the approaching crowd, he turned around and looked up at all the iljin.

                Juyoung cursed.

                Taehyung only muttered at first, until his eyes focused on Naeil. First he saw her face, bloodied and swollen, hair in disarray. Then he saw her arms, pulled behind her in the tight grip of two boys. Her clothes were wrinkled and ruined. Her head drooped with exhaustion.

                His eyes grew as wide as saucers.

                “N-n-noona…” he stuttered, dropping the paint can to the floor. “What…WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY NOONA?!”

Author’s Note

I’m really sorry the two chapters this week were short >_<  I haven’t been able to write much.

Mental breakdown has definitely happened. I can’t even lock myself in my room because there are people there. I think I might start convulsing wildly and screaming obscenities if I can’t be by myself for an hour.

a/egha/;oerihg/q4wpoejfps340it2-p39whfokA*ShYEWF
pkAs}{d{seojf/AE’SRILGA{w_
erkwpaiefn/qeo’airhng:PRJOg
Ph3RFOIwhenf/{WEURG
Pishner

OGIHnaerlifn.awlekfnhlawkenhfyu

*sigh*

That felt so good.

I’m also sorry for using the author’s notes to complain but………………yeah.

Oh and…uh…happy new year?