X. | Baccus.
Suicide Circle
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chapter nine
baccus
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They don't know where they are. It's somewhere east of Bangkok, where the floor is dirty and the people are pimply. They're pimply because of the air, which is occasionally visible—air should never be visible. Jongin reads a street sign that tells him that there's a fancy hotel somewhere further south, so he grabs Taeyeon's tiny hand and whisks her through the hordes of sweaty Thai residents. "Oppa, I'm hungry." She keeps on saying, and every time he feels a part of his heart chip off and crumble into pieces. Ever since their parents were murdered, he's made it his responsibility to take care of the young girl. He would thieve clothing, food and fresh water for her everyday just to see her pretty smile that would make birds chirp and stars twinkle. "Don't worry, Tae, there's food down here." He'd always make sure to say.
Back then the young Kim Jongin was a dreamer of life, fluorescent colors and everlasting friendship. Despite his parent's demise, he loved life. He loved the flowers, the smells, the touches, and was fascinated by the individuality of each and every human being residing on earth. Everyone is different, important. He'd always whisper to his little sister whenever he'd catch her giving crude looks to a strange passerby. Sometimes he'd wish that life would aerate him and Taeyeon away into the blossoming orange-purple sky around six pm, or into the yellowish ray of sunlight that wakes him up each and every morning. In short, he was wishing for a better life. But he knew (for now) all he could ever do was dream. He'd made it so far already.
* * *
"Shhhhhh." The young Jongin had a finger pressed against two sown lips, while his younger sister silently obeyed his order. The two younger Kims were crouched down in-between a heap of old boxes. They were located on the bottom level of one of the most prestigious hotels in Bangkok; golden door knobs, sparkling chandeliers and velvet red carpets were just a few of the notable delicacies the famous hot spot had to offer.
With the stealth of a cat, Kim Jongin grabbed Taeyeon's hand and whisked his way through the empty boxes, and once the path was clear, he made his way to a door. The door was a rich shade of red, with a golden-tinted '14' placed on the top. With the help of his lucky pin, the young boy managed to unlock the door, revealing a large suite that made the both of them stand in awe.
The suite was absolutely stunning. Everything was in either hues of red, golden or black. The carpet was a deep red, and the younger sister rubbed her bare toes into the soothing material just to feel its soft texture rub against her soft skin. The walls were a creamy peach, with expensive-looking paintings of fruits, scenery and animals hung up on golden hooks. Jongin looked down at his little sister. Her hair was messy, her face was dirty and her clothes were rugged, but to him, he only saw the most beautiful little princess the world had to offer.
"Do you like it here, Tae?"
She nods. Her small arms lift up to wrap themselves around Jongin's fourteen year old body. It was like she could feel the pain in his bones, the ache in his muscles. At the mere age of ten, Kim Taeyeon was exceptionally smart for her age. She wasn't naive, or gullible, or even innocent. She knew how this world was, and she recognised it for both it's good and it's bad. Something that her brother failed to do. But nevertheless, her words come out soft and heartfelt. "I love it, oppa."
* * *
Two days had passed since they'd broken into the suite. Luckily none of the cleaners or staff assistants have came in to check on the condition of the room which is odd, but Jongin can do nothing but be alert and pray for the best.
The weather in Thailand is terrible. Hot, fierce tropical winds sprawl through the city blocks and hit all it's inhabitants with a strong heat wave that breaks the inner city's records. If you were to walk outside, then first thing you'd see would be tanned, reddening youngsters playing in rivers and lakes, or shriveled old men drinking the heat away bottle-by-bottle.
Kim Taeyeon looks up slowly as the sound of a lock opening wake her from her semi-slumber. It's Jongin. With food. The young boy tosses his bag of rice, meat and vegetables over to Taeyeon once they're in arms reach. As soon as his hands are free, the first thing he does is remove his pants. They stuck to the back of his legs with a layer of sticky sweat, and make the sound of a band-aid being ripped off raw skin when he tugs them down. He never figured out why it felt so good to walk around in nothing but a pair of old underwear on hot days like this— or any days, really. But Taeyeon doesn't seem to care, so why not.
Jongin steps out of the material piled around his feat and slowly waddles over to where Taeyeon's sitting. She's laying-half-sitting up on the bed with her back resting against the wooden bed frame; she looks tired, and the beads of sweat racing down her head are disgustingly making her bangs stick to her forehead. But it doesn't stop Jongin from crawling up onto the bed and snuggling into the being that's half his size. His arms go around her waist, and his head finds its place resting on her shoulder blade. She doesn't squirm around like she usually does though, because it's far too hot for any pointless arguments.
"I'm thirsty.. But, I'm too lazy to get up.." Taeyeon hums in an even tone. is dry and rough from the lack of water she had drank, but like she said, she was far too lazy to get up and relieve it.
They're both wet and sticky from the sweat they're both sharing. Taeyeon thinks that she should probably go take a shower— and the thought of it feels so tempting. She'd turn the water onto cold and just stand there until the sun goes down, letting the cool liquid wash away all the excess heat. She really wanted to get off the sticky bed and make that happen, but once again— she was just too ing lazy. Jongin casts a glance at the floor, his pile of jeans and dirty white t-shirt are stuck together about a meter away from the bed. He thinks that he should roll off and pick them up, wash them quickly and hang them out to dry so that the next time he has to go somewhere they'll be nice and clean for him to wear. But likewise, he's just too ing lazy. So he's just going to leave them there until it's time for them to flee, where he'll most likely pick them up and shove them into the clothes bag— clean mixing with the dirty— Taeyeon was always better with those kind of things, but neither of them wanted to move right now.
Jongin dozes off a little, he doesn't know how long exactly, but when he wakes up the air is mucky and Taeyeon is so stuck to him that he feels like she's an extra limb— slippery and salty. Their sweat has probably seeped into the bedsheets, filling the holes between the small threads of fabric. They're weighed down and immobile. Paralyzed by the heat, which only thickens every moment that they remain stranded on this bed.
* * *
It's around 7 pm when the young boy's back jerks up from the loud noises he'd heard come from the hallway outside his room. He unconsciously wraps an arm around Taeyeon, pulling her closer to his body. Everything's silent for a moment, then he hears it— a loud explosion, followed by a myriad of high-pitched screams.
The walls start to shake, and the bathroom erupts into an explosion of rubber, granite and enamel. Taeyeon screams, but a fast-thinking Jongin had already pulled her figure off the bed and down under it instead. The two of the curl up into a ball, with Taeyeon's head firmly protected by her older brother's thin arms.
"Everything will be okay, Tae. Everything will be okay." He chants. Over and over again. He's saying it more to himself then he is to his sister, but it reassures her all the same. She can always trust Jongin, after all.
Soon after there's another explosion. This time it was in the hallway, but the impact from it made the door of the suite fly off it's hinges and travel through the room, it hits the wall opposite the bed and breaks into what looks like a thousand pieces of chipped wood and golden flecks. By this time the room was covered in a thick cloud of smoke and dust, and the screaming had all ceased into a far cry.
It was a terrorist attack. Various bombs were planted in each of the rooms and pathways, and were all assigned to explode at a specific time. Jongin knew this, in fact, a part of him expected such a thing to happen in a place like this. They always do.
Jongin realized that he needed to get his precious little sister far away from this place, but there was a giant risk associated with leaving, because wherever he laid foot, there was a high chance that he could trigger some hidden explosive and kill the both of them instantly. He sighed, running his hand through his shaggy hair as his mind tried to think of a thousand different getaways. A few seconds later her felt a soft moisture wet his arm, so he looked down only to see his precious little sister looking up at him with tears streaming down her pale cheeks. "Oppa, I'm.. Scared.." She managed to cough out through muffled sobs.
At that moment, he knew he had to do something quick. He couldn't let such a beautiful little girl like Taeyeon cry, he just couldn't. He was too much a good brother to even consider something like that to happen. So, with the quick shuffling of his feet, and the hasty 'Close your eyes and count to three' instruction he gave Taeyeon, he scooped her up into his arms, and his thin— but fast legs ran out of the room, trying to gain as much distance as possible.
There were chunks of rock and mysterious fibers replacing the hallway's usually sparkly-clean look. The crystal clean you-can-see-your-own-reflection glass windows were now broken into small pieces, laying on the ground and sharp. But despite this, Jongin was very careful as to where he was going, so he managed to keep a steady balance. "Hold on Tae, almost there." he whispered as he lunged his body over a chunk of rock.
A glimmer of hope flashed through the courageous brother's eyes as he saw a soft light shining at the end of the path.
Freedom.
He noticed that it was the front entrance— the explosion had knocked the door off it hinges, making an easy and fast getaway.
Safety.
He looked down at Taeyeon, he was holding her bridal style, with her head pressed against his heaving chest. She was shaking from fright, and it made her brother so sad.
"Almost there, Tae." The light was getting brighter, and brighter and brighter. The light at the end of the tunnel phrase never seemed to work for the young boy, but at this time, he'd never thought such a small light would provide as much relief as it did.
Almost...
He was five meters away. Rocks and rubble were blocking his path, but he could easily jump over them with his athlete legs.
Ah, finally.
He had reached the doorway. The light blinded his eyes, similar to when you first leave the house after staying indoors all day. He was frozen. But not frozen from the light— oh no. He was frozen, because if he were to take another step, his head would be blown into a collage of pretty shades of red.
He was surrounded by armed police.
"Put the young woman down and place your hands above your head." Came the order from a husky, broad police officer with dark eyes and messy black hair.
He didn't want to. He didn't want to risk them taking Taeyeon away— he just— no, he didn't even want to think about it. He was scared, so scared. Kim Jongin hated all of the police force, he hated anything to do with the government, to be quite honest. The two siblings were constantly on the run from those people, they wanted to put the two of them in separate homes— no, not an orphanage, in an actual family. But Jongin and Taeyeon couldn't be separated. No. Never. Not happening.
But what could he possibly do now? He had been playing the role as sheep this whole time.
"Put her down or we'll shoot!" Jongin was shaking now. But he had no choice. Slowly, ever so slowly, he crouched down, letting the younger girl hop out of his arms like a little white rabbit.
Taeyeon, even at the young age she was, was more than aware of the situation she was in— surrounded by a couple dozen police with firearms pointed at their heads— they thought that the two innocent children had something to do with the bombings. She was also aware that the two of them had been running from the authorities for quite some time now. The fact that a teenager and a minor were able to get away with numerous accounts of theft had baffled and enraged the officers. So even if they were allowed to remain together, they'd be in deep trouble.
Until the Chief of police stepped in.
The Chief had a pair of big, horn-rimmed glasses in the ugliest shade of red Kim Jongin had ever seen. With a faint smile playing on his pink lips, the man ordered his colleagues to put their firearms down as he slowly made his way towards the shivering children.
He glanced at Taeyeon, who quickly looked the other way, before turning his attention to Jongin. Kim Jongin stared at him with a locked jaw and focused eyes— he had to (at least) appear tough, for Taeyeon. He had to keep her reassured. Keeping his head held high, never swaying below his shoulder line. He looked fierce. He felt scared.
"How old are you?" The Chief asked, as his fingers brushed along Jongin's clutched jaw. The boy flicked his head to the side, ripping himself out of the man's touch. "Old enough."
A heartly chuckle was heard slipping the man's lips. And in a matter of seconds, he had stood back up and wrapped his arms around Jongin and Taeyeon's shoulders. "Don't worry. They're just harmless little kids. I'll deal with them myself." He yelled across the wreckage to his team members. They looked at him puzzled for a few moments, but had no choice but to abide by his instructions. He was the chief, after all. And had been the chief for a very long time.
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