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It’s been more than three years since I last came to this place. My father’s mom was unexpectedly delighted to see us, the family. My dear grandmother, the one I stopped seeing since long time ago. She has been sick, that’s what my uncles had been saying to us lately.

It’s almost Christmas. She spent all her money buying a new stove because she thought we would use it.

She didn’t know we just arrived to leave twelve hours later.

My grandfather was happy, so happy that he bought everything they had in the small kitchen made out of cartoon and iron sheets, the wood had burnt last year in a fire, they didn’t have enough money to replace it with new one. Cartoon was cheaper.

It was sad to see the house that was once the most beautiful and gorgeous one in the whole town this broken.

I never wanted to say it, that it was because of my cousin, which wasn’t my cousin but just another member of my not-so-big family. She was fat, so fat that we could say she was three times me. Literally.

My grandparents were once the owners of the biggest store in the small town. But then again, she was fat and ate everything, took away the money they earned with so much work and spent it in more food. My grandparents were nice.

It’s a special family, my dad’s. Mine.

My grandmother was always annoyed or mad. My grandfather was lovely. My oldest uncle, I didn’t knew about him until some years ago we went to his house, 36 hours in car to arrive. The next son, my father doesn’t even remember his name, but we all know now that he has countless children all spread in the country. One of them my fat cousin.

They never gathered for Christmas or New Year. They were all so cold and they were teaching the same to their children.

That until my parents decided it was ridiculous. They were all surprised when we visited them to go and have dinner together. As a family. We took meat and vegetables, drinks, everything. My grandmother would lock herself into her room and do not come out until everyone was gone.

She didn’t like people. Like me.

But she liked us. She smiled only when she was with us and I was worried because what if she didn’t smile in those three years we were away?

Poor. They were poor, we are. We have nothing but ourselves.

My grandmother once told my mom, (the only daughter in law out of seven she liked… she liked my mom even more than her own only daughter), she told her that please, when she were gone, dead, she should continue gathering all, because they wouldn’t. And so my mom promised.

But the promised was broken because we stopped going to spend Christmas. It was way too risky to bring the whole family here.

We’re afraid, my grandmother looks sick. But my uncles won’t care about her. She doesn’t like to be pampered. She’s like me, no wait… I’m like her.

We couldn’t bring our car. Maybe they take it away. Who you ask? Them. They kill people, innocent ones. They kidnap, steal, … they do everything to anyone, innocent people, like us. We left our car and came in bus, a tiresome trip of 12 hours because I insisted my dad I wanted to see them, to see my family, it’s been years since I last did so.

It was a risk, to even stand in this land. We could sense it, the fear in the air. We were scared of what could happen.

Last time my dad came alone. He was threatened to death and they let him go after a few hours. They took his money and his belongings but at least he was left alone. It was considered a miracle.

I’ve known of hundreds of cases, when they trap them and take away everything they have, leaving them alone and with nothing in the middle of a dessert, to die by themselves. They kill, they don’t mind if they’re rich or poor. The country is afraid, they bought the media, no one dares to talk about it to the nation.

Government is worst. We’re even more afraid of them. Cops can come and start hitting you just because, kill you because they thought you had a gun when you were only grabbing a fruit.

It’s not safe, it’s scary. We’re scared.

“Hyukjae,” my grandmother called with a weak smile. “You should go to sleep already, there’s no signal for your phone here,” she said and it was sweet. Sweeter than any other time.

I smiled back. “I wasn’t trying to use my phone,” I said sincerely. “I was just looking at the moon, it’s prettier here…”

She chuckled bitterly. “It’s not safe here,” she said with caution. “They can come and they’ll get mad if you’re not inside before ten, they don’t know who you are,” she warned, pulling my arm into the house.

It was a big land and lots of small houses. Each one of the size of just a room. We stayed in the one with better conditions, it was made of wood. There were holes in the walls that made the cold wind come into the small room and they were covered with old clothes. There was no bed, that was a luxury here. But we had blankets, my grandfather had cartoons and newspaper to sleep. There was no concrete to step on, it was simply ground, solid ground.

People would get disgusted with the conditions of a family living in extreme poorness. But not us, not me. It was my family, they were my family. I’ve lived like this for years, it’s okay, I can live like this. No TV, no phone, not even electricity.

I’m used to it. To go to the bathroom and find not toilet simply because that doesn’t exist here. There are rats all over, insects, no much meat because there are not refrigerators or microwaves. People can’t even imagine those things exist. Living between trash, because that’s the only thing people see. I see many things we can use for living better. My grandmother, I bet she’s been using that dress for months already without taking it out. She doesn’t have many. My mom used to bring her some but we stopped coming.

This time we brought blankets for everyone. They didn’t say ‘thanks’. They’re all cold.

When I greeted them goodbye I could see the tears threatening to fall down their eyes. It could be the last time I actually saw them and I wanted to cry, to yell that it was unfair, that they should come with us and leave everything behind. We weren’t rich but we could give them a home and food, they could be with us instead of there.

The next day we came back home. It took us a whole day because our bus was stopped. They took the men out and left the children and women inside.

My father and I did nothing but obey. My sisters and mother stayed up, probably crying out of nervousness and worry. I clenched my fists, I was scared, my father was scared.

They took away our wallets and looked at us intently as they lined us up in front of the bus. The man by my side was shot in the head and I closed my eyes tightly as his blood reached my face. I could hear the yells from the women inside and I wanted to die, to disappear. I was trembling, my father was as well.

At the end they let us go, my dad hugged me tightly and I couldn’t sleep for two weeks from then on.

The place I lived in wasn’t like that. It was a little safer. It was like the nest, they all had their families here, their important persons. It was a protected city.

But it was getting out of control. Women and men were getting kidnapped and never found, assaults, . Everything in the safest city of the country.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked me and I looked up, feeling my wrists hurt from being tied to tightly.

“My family,” I answered sincerely. “I miss my family.”

He chuckled. “They’re dead,” and it was so cold to say it like that.

My tears slid down my face, I gulped afraid, I was scared. “They shouldn’t,” I said shakily, looking down to my dirty clothes. “They did nothing, we did nothing, I did nothing… why did you choose us?”

“You were living well,” he said as I started crying my heart again.

I wasn’t there when they were killed. My sisters were shot and my parents involved in a car accident when they heard about it. I was driving the bus and all the passengers were kidnapped.

“And you’re unlucky,” he said coldly, lifting my chin up.

I shook my head weakly, crying already, shaking from the terror I felt because of him, someone as young as him was already involved into that kind of mafia. “Kill me please…,” I mumbled, begging to please end with my life already because it was becoming hell. A hell I wasn’t prepared to stand.

And his eyes softened, he was pitying me, he was feeling bad for me. Or at least that’s what I was thinking. “Hyukjae,” he called me and I looked down again, letting my head fall down in despair, closing my eyes tightly with my body shaking, I could hear gun shots from the outside, it was a massacre. “Hyukjae,” he called me again and I refused to look up.

“Why?” I asked again, my bones were crashing against the cold floor. “Why Kyuhyun? Why?” and I finally looked up at him. I couldn’t understand, he knew, he always knew how scared we were, how innocent we were. Why us? Why torturing innocent people? Why Kyuhyun? Why the one I loved?

Kyuhyun looked at me and reached his hand to my face. I looked away, flinching from his touch. I wasn’t disgusted, I was mad, I was scared. Why couldn’t he understand? “Hyuk, I’m sorry,” he said and I shook my head violently, letting my tears go down. “It wasn’t us… we tried to protect you…”

It called my attention, I looked at him in disbelief. “My family Kyuhyun… my all…”

“I’m sorry Hyuk…,” he said and hugged me, even when I couldn’t move because of the ropes holding me steady. “We couldn’t stop them, we tried, I tried, we couldn’t…”

“This is crazy…,” I cried, now leaning closer to his touch. “This is wrong…”

He hugged me tighter, rubbing my back soothingly as I cried again, my white clothes now seemed to be black and my hair was a mess. “I’m sorry,” he repeated kissing my neck. “I tried Hyuk… I really did…”

“It’s Christmas Kyu…,” I cried.

Why wasn’t I scared anymore? Why was I trusting my everything left to the man I loved? Why was Kyuhyun even by my side? Why was I being this miserable? Cuddling against the chest of a killer…

“I’m sorry…,” and yet again, I could feel his lips on my skin, as if trying to make me forget the pain I was going through. I felt my hands not hurting so much and I knew, he was taking away the ropes keeping me steady. “Hyuk, come with me, you’ll be safer like this…,” he said parting away and looking at my eyes.

“I can’t stand it Kyu… I can’t stand someone suffering just because… I just can’t…,” I couldn’t stop them… the tears that were flowing.

I heard screams from people dying outside the place we were in. I remembered my grandparents, how they lived, how much I wanted to see them again, how much I wished for them to live better, to be healthy, to please remember us as the happy family we once were.

I thought about my grandmother’s smile. The one that she only showed whenever we went there, her wisdom words, her advices, how she dragged me inside the house when it was cold or she was simply worried.

I missed them, I missed my family.

But my family would never come back. I closed my eyes, feeling Kyuhyun hugging me tightly. “Let’s get away…,” he proposed and I said nothing, thinking on how much I would change if only I could.

No more killed people, no more , no more violence.

In those minutes… I thought about everything. About how much I wished to be hugged by my family, how many were standing the same pain as I was. How Kyuhyun was hugging me so tight and how my tears were staining his shirt as I nodded because yes, I wished for so many things but I wanted to run away.

“Let’s go,” he said pulling me up and dragging me away.

I turned around for one last time and stopped Kyuhyun at once, looking now at him with firm eyes. “Promise me Kyuhyun…,” I started and he turned to me with honest eyes, the ones I fell in love with. “Promise me that everything will be better…”

He smiled softly and hugged me by the waist, kissing my lips gently. “I promise,” he said and after I nodded he dragged me away.

I bit my lower lip. I didn’t want to hear the screams, the gun shots, the explosions, I only looked at Kyuhyun’s figure, at how everyone did what he said them to.

And I promised myself. That one day, I’ll come back and hug my grandparents, to tell them I’m fine and that I love them, so much that it hurt. I would tell them that I missed them, that now I can give them everything and they don’t have to worry, that I’ll visit them often from then on.

I promised to myself… that there will be a day I won’t feel scared.

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A/N: TT_TT my country has been into so much violence…

I haven’t seen my grandparents for three years already… I miss them.

My dad went yesterday and he told me is even worst, there’s no one outside in the streets, it’s awful and I’m crying because I don’t want to live like this… My dad told me that I will never see them again, it’s too dangerous to bring me with him.

I’m worried about them, my grandparents. They live in such extreme conditions… you guys have no idea of how they’re living.

I just… wanted to get rid of this… feeling inside me… *sighs* I’m such a crybaby…

I don’t even know if what I wrote makes any sense…

I’m scared.