Chapter 06

""I learned to play the instruments of war," he said, "and paint in blood.""
- Cassandra Clare, City of Lost Souls

“Get back here you brat!”

Adrenaline rose up in 14-year-old Dalnim's veins as she went for a run.

During the annual Spring Flower Festival in Seoul, she was wandering the crowded streets. She was plagued by hunger and she wished for nothing more than a hot bath and a new change of clothes.

She watched people dressed in traditional hanbok wander from food booth to food booth, stuffing their faces with all kinds of fantastically smelling snacks and she felt her stomach grumble. It had been one and a half days since she was able to get some food in her system.

As a large group of men passed her by, the reek of alcohol hit her immediately. A hint of fear brushed her, just before she pushed through the group, excusing herself over and over again as she did so. As she arrived on the other side of the group, her fingers wound tightly around a heavy leather wallet and a smile crossed her face.

Just when she thought she was getting away with it, she heard one of the men call after her. Quick-witted, she turned around and sprinted in the opposite direction, barging into the people in her way and impatiently shoving them to the side despite being smaller and wispier than most of them.

On her way, she even knocked over a toddler, but she didn't care. She ran for her life and the rush of her blood blocked out her surroundings completely. To her, only her heartbeat was audible and it just pushed her on.

A couple of streets later, she collapsed behind the corner of a huge apartment building. Her breath was going flatly and her head started spinning. Dalnim leaned her head back against the wall, her dark brown locks flying across her face as a wave of wind brushed over her.

She closed her eyes against the coolness of the fresh wind and tried to steady her breathing.

A sudden touch on top of her head let her jump in her spot and her hand darted up to grab who ever was touching her, but she sighed in relief as her fingers only closed around a cherry blossom.

A smile broke through her tense mask as her thumb brushed over the petals of the blossom lightly. It was a a beautiful view and its color – a soft shade of pink – reminded her of her bedroom at home. It also reminded her of her favorite movie back when she was in elementary school.

Mulan. Her and her sister would watch it every Sunday morning, until they were able to speak every single line. They would divide it in parts and even act it out in front of their parents. And she could still hear her sister's pure and young voice in her mind, as she impersonated Mulan's father.

“The flower that blooms in adversity” she mumbled to herself, closing her eyes and inhaling the comforting smell of the cherry blossom. “is the most rare and beautiful of them all.”

Suddenly, a strong force grabbed the collar of her jacket and pulled her off of the ground, pressing her face tightly to the rough facade of the building. Panic stiffened her bones as the strong smell of alcohol and sweat filled the air.

“There you are, you little”

The man buried his fingers in her hair, gripping tightly at her roots, and pressed her face even harder against the wall.

“You little !”

A piercing pain shot through her cheek and she pinched her eyes shut tightly.

Dalnim couldn't prevent a whimper to escape , but she still clung tightly to the wallet in her one, and the blossom in her other hand.

A second later, the grip holding her up loosened and Dalnim fell to her knees, ending up kneeling in front of the man she had robbed.

He squat down in front of her and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up at him.

He wasn't good-looking. Not even in an unconventional sense. To Dalnim, he was disgusting. His eyes were glazed and, thus being strong, his movements were clumsy and his words sounded slurred.

His hand on her chin wandered up, squeezing her cheeks painfully. By the way her right cheek started burning at his touch, she could tell that she was bleeding. She clenched her jaws tightly and welcomed the anger in her veins. In that moment, she swore revenge to him.

In that moment, she wished she could poke her fingers in his disgusting eyes.

“I want my money back, missy!” he growled, his stinky breath hitting Dalnim's face, causing her to gag.

But she didn't give in. She vehemently shook her head.

“Don't you have a family? Do you not know the meaning of consequences?”

His voice sent cold shivers down her back and tears started to build in her eyes as she felt his fingers close around .

At first, she struggled against it. Struggled against his fingers, struggled against the lack of air in her lungs.

Then, a thought hit her.

Maybe, just maybe, she was better off like this.

A smile curled on her lips. A tear fell.

She was ready.

Dalnim's eyelids fluttered open in surprise as air filled her lungs. The pressure around was gone, leaving her disoriented and confused. Why didn't he kill her?

Her eyes flicked around, desperately trying to get a hold on what was going on. Her hearing was dulled down, but she saw that the man was still crouching in front of her, but both of his hands were raised to the back of his head and his face was twisted in pain.

She didn't know what happened, but her body reacted quicker than her mind. Her hand clenched into a tight fist and she punched her opposite as hard as she could. He howled in pain and as he looked at her, his eyes burned with rage.

Aware of the fact that this was her chance, she rolled to her right, bolted to her feet and ran.

She ran until her legs gave out. Until her sides burned. Until her lungs felt like they were filled with acid instead of oxygen.

When she caught her breath again and her legs didn't feel too wobbly to walk, she dragged herself to the nearest public toilet.

The harsh fluorescent light made her look nearly as horrible as she felt. One of the lamps flickered and Dalnim watched it through the mirror for a while, her hands grabbing tightly onto the sink.

All of a sudden she snapped like a violin string.

Tears streamed down her face and she started sobbing violently. Her cries echoed inside the tiled room. Her chest hurt and she felt terribly alone. She even wished that the man would have finished what he had started.

She told herself to stop – but she couldn't.

She stood there and cried until there were no more tears left.

Her body felt drained an