“Get back out there!” Ko Jin hollered when he appeared in the doorway. Bloody. Smelly. Dirt stained.

Mucus a mix of blood beneath his nose. His ribs kept piercing into his lungs at every breath. The entire effort up the steps felt like a million daggers burrowing into his skin. Sehun in air through his teeth the entire way, an arm securely wrapped around his torso.

He yearned for a shower. To clean and scrub himself of the blood and whatever gross things he’d lain in.

He wanted breakfast to console his empty stomach. So that his innards would stop gnawing at itself.

“I just want to eat, please.” His voice trembled.

He was thirsty. Desperate to quench the sensation drying his throat.

“I said get out!” Ko Jin bellowed. Angrily reaching for his glass of water he threw it at Sehun. He ran back outside just in time to hear the cup shattering against the door.

Wincing and hiccupping, Sehun retreated back to the shed. Sitting and drawing his knees up. Hugging himself.

He wiped his face as his eyes welled up. He sat like that for an hour and jolted to attention when the storm door slammed shut. The sound of impending footsteps made his heart pitter patter in fear.

Looking up to see Ahjin glaring down at him. “What a pitiful sight.”

Was she here to take him back into the house?

Sehun cried out when she twisted his ear bringing him to his feet. “How dare you ing laze here! If you live here you pay your dues, you lazy son of a !”

“It hurts! It hurts!” Sehun whined stumbling alongside her slouched. “Please, I’ll walk. I can walk.”

Relief burst through him when she let go, but the next slap was the sharpest.

“You’re whining?” she questioned with the exact same threatening demeanor as her husband. Slapping him again, “You’re whining?!”

Sehun pressed a hand to his face sobbing. It stung so bad. Every part of his body was on fire.

“What a girl.” Ahjin’s eyes ran up and down over him disgusted. “Your mother gave birth to the wrong thing.” Smacking the back of his head, “Get going! The pigs aren’t going to wait all day!” As Sehun stumbled away she banshee screamed, “And pick up the chickens!”

His chest heaved as he cried and pushed himself forward. Every breath a painful take. The hollow sensation in his stomach was a sword stabbing his guts. He could hardly lift up the little bowl in the large silver pail by the pig pen. Sobbing freely now. His woeful cries creating an unusual melody of squealing and snorting hungry pigs.

Finally managing to raise his arm, Sehun threw their liquid and solid mixture of food over the wooden gate. His stomach growled. His hand paused midway as he lifted the bowl out of the pail. Staring into the brown mix. Spotting grains and a mix of vegetables. A round slice of orange floated at the surface.

Only desperation and hunger could explain what he did that day.

Sehun hesitated then lifted the bowl to his lips. Gulping greedily the pigs’ food. It flowed so fast into his panging stomach the first thing he sank into was how it made his stomach swelled. Because he’d eaten so fast, he puked a stream of pale brown. The gushing liquid landed at his feet.

He gulped for air and heaved, bent over. Bubbles popped inside his stomach and then stopped. It growled again. Feeling ready, Sehun dipped the bucket into the pail and held it to his mouth again. Eating, drinking the pigs’ meal as he listened to them snort behind their post. Stomping their feet and shaking their heads, causing a fuss.

In fear of being caught, Sehun threw a bucketful into their pen and wiped his mouth with the back of his arm.

He limped into the chicken house afterward. The clucking birds scattered away from the doorway crowding into each other, their heads twitching and twisting. None of their beady eyes landed on him, as if they pitied him.

That was his freedom. Inside the chicken house. With over a hundred identical birds clucking every day. Waiting for the company truck to come pick them up, chop their heads off, and send them away into stores to be sold as poultry.

They and he were one and the same.

He wasn’t allowed into the house that evening. Staggering up the steps, dry blood underneath his nostrils, he knocked and knocked and knocked. Pulled and yanked at the locked door. No one answered him. The lights remained off.

Sehun was abandoned, the darkness a gloom enveloping him. Night so deep his heart plunged straight into fear. No lights to guide him. Not a lamp post. A measly nightlight to show him the way.

It was just pitch black all around him. Few stars sprung to life, but their gleam and shine was not enough for him.

It would never be enough for the nights he spent outside.

Realizing his effort was useless, Sehun backed down the stairs. Hugging himself. Taking a good look all around him. Down there the apple tree was a dark monstrous shadow. A strange black mushroom in the night. Nothing stretched around him.

He felt his way toward the shed. Crawled behind the hay and settled down.

Heartbroken.

Closing his eyes, he slept in the fetal position. Wrapping arms around his body to keep himself warm. Though his eyes remained shut, hot tears threatened to swell behind his eyelids. He thought of the stuffed dragon he’d gotten at the orphanage and began to sing a lullaby. Will himself into another land where he might be dropped into a happier place. Some place a loving family would come find him.

In the coming months Sehun would find himself sleeping like that. Outside. By himself in the dark with no light. No one to protect him.

Sensing a presence the next morning, Sehun blinked awake when something soft and light landed over his face.

“Baby , wake up.” It was Songman. Tossing a pair of jeans at him he repeated, “I said wake up!”

Hurrying into a sitting position, Sehun clutched onto the clothes terrified.

“er,” Songman hissed. Pitifully glaring at him before walking away.

Stripping in the shed, Sehun pulled on the new clothes. Not really new. He could tell they were Songman’s because they hung off his smaller frame. At least they smelled washed.

“That I have to feed a scavenger like you disgusts me.” Ahjin threw a plate in front of him at the breakfast table.

At the head of the table, Ko Jin’s face was buried behind the newspaper. He’d been like that ever since Sehun sauntered through the doorway. It was obviously felt that Sehun was a pest no one wanted to look at. It did not take effort to make him feel like he was undeserving, something he’d always been very familiar with.

Midway through breakfast Sehun choked when the doorway abruptly swung open surprising him. This time, Ko Jin lowered his newspaper flashing him a menacing glare. Irritated he swat the newspaper into his face.

“Bastard! I’m reading here!” Ko Jin scolded as Ahjin shrieked.

“Shintae!” Leaping up from her chair she immediately held her arms out to hug her oldest son. Withdrawing whilst running her hands over his arm, she gleamed, “Look at you. All suited up and so handsome!” Turning to Ko Jin, “Dear, look! Our son is home!”

Sehun shrunk when he twisted in his chair to look at Ko Shintae. He was tall. Really tall. Thinner than Songman but the way his suit fit him snugly revealed just how fit he was. His muscles had to be tone.

Sehun doubted they were really family, because Shintae was handsome like a man cut out of a front-page magazine. His brows were perfectly thick all the way down to his fine cut jawline.

“Hi, dad,” Shintae called out.

“I didn’t expect you so soon!” Ko Jin eagerly went to hug him radiating joy as he wrapped those arms that had beat him yesterday around his son.

“Wanted to surprise you guys.” Shin patted his father’s back. “How’s the farm been?”

“Oh, the farm is a mess!” Ahjin complained. “The new helper is just so lazy.”

Sehun nervously darted his eyes away when Shin looked at him. His pulse hiked up.

“What did you cook? Smells good.” Stealing another glimpse of him Sehun saw the eldest son’s attention back on his parents.

He was relieved. Momentarily.

Sehun was kicked out into the living room. Over the next few days, he slept indoors. Grateful for a blanket, a roof over his head, and safety of a home. He was missing by dawn every day. Embarking on his duties. Not yet fully healed from the extent of Ko Jin’s severe beating, but he had to work. He was fed two times a day. If he wanted more to eat he'd have to choose from a dead, rotting chicken he picked up every day. They might cook it for him. Songman had cackled at this.

Ahjin daily mumbled loudly every morning she was tired of feeding a freeloader like him. He didn’t deserve to eat at their table.

Sehun never made a peep. Sometimes it felt like Ko Jin would look at him urging him to speak up in his defense, to challenge them. The sight of the rifle still hidden behind the garden tools in the shed frightened Sehun. It haunted him every day and every night. Sometimes he didn’t sleep at all for fear of his life. Picturing scenarios of Ko Jin creeping up on him in the dark, dragging him out into those thick woods he’d been driven past on his first day, and shot dead; left for the wild animals to feed on.

It was never Ko Jin who came for him. It was Shintae.

Dawn had just struck. Light barely resonating through the closed curtains. A waft of chilled air struck Sehun awake. Someone had just flung off the blanket. A tall, shadowy figure loomed over him. Sehun’s heart rammed into his ribs.

“Get up.” He ordered.

Sehun scrambled to his feet. Snatching the collar of his shirt Shintae led outside barefoot. A third party joined them on the way out the door. Then the storm door flapped shut. The streak of morning was just hitting the tree lines. An ominous pale green blending with blue. The round white moon was faint a way down at the edge of the world.

There was enough light to see the outline of the buildings. The dense thicket of trees in the distance. The apple tree beside the dirt driveway.

“Look at him.” Shin commented amused after pushing him away. Sehun came to a halt after five missteps from the impact of Shin’s strength.

He gulped, tried not to make it obvious he was afraid. But he was already trying to become smaller. And trembling.

“Mommy says he’s a girl.” Songman chuckled from behind his older brother.

“Should we check?” Shin slightly peered back; arms crossed. His feet were spread apart parallel to the width of his shoulders, like an army drill sergeant.

Sehun’s eyes danced around the shed. He was trapped.

“Pull your pants down.” Shin ordered

His teeth chattered even though it was already warm out.

Whistling bringing Sehun to attention, he repeated, “I said pull your pants down.”

A cry jumped up his throat then became trapped at the back of his mouth.

“Didn’t you hear my brother?” Songman scolded. “Need to check if you’re a boy, idiot.”

“I…I am.” Sehun’s voice was barely audible.

“I said do it!” Shin’s tone deepened. He threatened to step forward, “You want me to do it for you?”

Sehun began erratically breathing. Everyone feared him at Angel. Staying far from him. He’d never been humiliated like this before.

His trembling hands moved to the strings of his sweats. Shaking harder when he began untying the knot. Then his pants dropped to his ankles.

Sehun never recovered from it.

Shin’s heehaw.

Songman’s roaring laughter.

The two boys high-fiving in their fit of amusement.

Shin punched him after he drew up his sweats. One to the face. One into his chest. The last blow into his stomach. And that was when Sehun collapsed. All strength in his legs just gave way. on the floor of the shed as he drew his knees up curling into a ball.

That day Shin left. Hugging his parents by his Porsche, a gift from them to him. Sehun watched the scene as he bled while pitching hay blood streaked, his nose fractured.

Sehun lasted until his eighteenth birthday. Beaten in between rows of Ko Jin’s drunken fits throughout the year. Sleeping on hay. Singing himself to sleep while daydreaming of dragons and happy families. If lucky, he’d have Shin’s room to himself for a warm night.

Throughout the year he noted Songman always had something brand new. High top sneakers. A branded snapback. Luxury clothes. Ahjin disappeared in the wee mornings. On more than one occasion Sehun caught her sneaking out of the house, tiptoeing toward her Camry, and driving away from the house. In her expensive fur coats, a huge jade ring on her finger, an expensive snakeskin purse hanging off her elbow.

Ko Jin hoarded alcohol.

No longer a minor, Sehun began concocting a plan to escape. More terrified of staying than leaving, he waited out his slow days. Every Tuesday Ahjin left around 6:30. Her son and husband would still be dead asleep. Ko Jin who’d been heavily drinking the day before would not get up until seven latest. Unworried because Sehun was there to fulfill farm duties. And Songman, well, Sehun knew Soneul had been let in sometime around the early a.m. They’d probably had all night and the guy had run out of fuel.

An engine roared to life in the distance. Sehun poked his head out of the shed to see orange taillights disappearing around the bend. Everyone would think he was picking up dead chickens right now then feed the pigs and drive out to oversee the cows giving them the entire morning to sleep in.

Sehun was doing none of that but creeping up the stairs. One light foot in front of the other. Wincing every time there was a creak. He didn’t want to wake up Ko Jin who might come waving wild dogs off the property. Stilling, Sehun waited. No one came.

Continuing he pressed the button of the black door handle and cautiously opened the storm door. One eye leapt toward the kitchen entrance, a gaping black hole. Clear. Entering the porch Sehun carefully waded through the storage unit. Past rows of ography magazines in unbelievably high stacks going up to his waist. Boxes of board games. A dog gate. Shoes everywhere. Laundry baskets of old clothes meant for donation but never reached. And then, Sehun finally reached it.

The dangerously leaning tower of boxes.

Almost higher than him. Forcing him to tiptoe as he gripped the top box, lowered it and worked his way down. On the third box down the bottom ripped open and its gaming contents clattered onto the floor, a half of game consoles slamming into the windows. Sehun’s heart raced madly.

Freezing, he waited for Ko Jin to wake. Songman to come panting and searching for the intruder. Once more, Sehun’s eyes dashed toward the kitchen.

No one.

Sighing relieved, he gently put the now empty box down at his feet and resumed until he reached the metal safety box buried at the bottom. He knew the code. One morning assuming he was still asleep in the shed, husband and wife embroiled into an argument outside away from nosey Songman. Their hushed voices carried by the wind as Sehun eavesdropped.

Ahjin was being confronted about her gambling addiction. Money had been disappearing from the safe. A hefty load saved in the course of emergency and also, in case their sons wanted to throw them away into an old people’s home. Tactic to reign an infinite leash around either Songman or Shintae, one of the unlucky one’s necks.

A pile of various sized envelopes came into view when he unbolted the door. It didn’t take much rummaging for Sehun to discover a gallon sized bag. A bundle of over several thousands in green cash ready for him.

Replacing the leaning tower, Sehun quietly exited the house. Sunlight had not pierced the highest part of the sky yet. He had hours to get a head start before the next week rolled around and Ahjin would find her money missing.

Sehun left that day.

He never looked back.

He ran all the way down south into a tiny city. Rented a small basement apartment, worked part-time while enrolling into online courses, and gradually assimilated into the crowd. After passing the first semester of classes, Sehun courageously wound his way through the gates of a college campus where he began taking courses on business management.

The competition he found in the department gave him a high like no other. In a class where students were randomly grouped with the task of creating a proficient business top down, his group took the victory. The professors were enamored by his intelligence he was encouraged to join model clubs. Traveling abroad with them on business explorations, attending presentations, sitting in on meetings, touring successful various firms where he received personal insight into the booming industry.

It was that world Sehun was introduced to that paved his way to success.

When Armor Co. hit the markets, he made it on television for the first time. On the paper. In the magazines. Nature’s course blessing him, finally.

In the capital city when he took homebase at the glass building, Songman came to see him. At first the security guards barred him from entry then he was let up to Sehun’s office. Behind his giant desk, Sehun watched Songman prowl his personal space with cool glazed eyes.

“This is the bomb!” Songman excitedly piped. “You must be loaded!”

No comment.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Songman whirled around. Walking toward the desk, Songman continued to exclaim, his voice high in volume, “Mom and dad are going nuts!” Propping an elbow onto the desk, Songman leaned toward him, “Dad went bonkers when he realized you took their money. He was going to come after you with his gun and,” he clicked his tongue and waved a hand at his throat, “kill you.”

Songman heehawed.

Sehun neutrally stared at him. His eyes forming the plaintive stare the kids at Angel made him so well known for.

“That’s it?” Songman’s brows jot up. “Hey, that was over $600,000.”

Reaching over, Sehun pressed an intercom button on his phone. “The guest is ready to leave.”

“What?!” Songman straightened. “ man! You screwed us over! I came all the way here for this?! you! you! you and your entire bull crap fashion line!”

Pulling a side drawer open, Sehun opened his wallet. Songman’s eyes glistened.

“Hey, sorry, man,” Songman apologized brushing the back of his head. “And Soneul wishes you the best, she really does.”

Slapping a five-dollar bill on the desk, Sehun said, “Gratitude from me.”

Songman gasped appalled then immediately lunged at him. “I’ll you up! I’m going to beat you so bad, you piece of !”

The door behind him opened and the security guard leapt forward, subduing Songman who relentlessly flailed. Arms, legs, words but never reaching Sehun behind his giant maple desk.