Slowly, I make my way up the path to my house, my feet feeling like they weigh a hundred kilos and my eyes slowly drooping, fighting to stay open long enough to do what I need to.

Daesung had come to pick me up at exactly the time he specified and although it was a tearful goodbye from Mina, who had seen me putting my bags in the boot of Daesung's car as she walked home with her Father from school, she waved me off with a smile when I promised to visit again soon and send her letters in between those visits.
 

With her not being fully literate yet, I'll most likely send her a small letter asking more about her life than telling of mine and add in a small sketch or two. When I was babysitting her, Mina would always watch over my shoulder or sit beside me as I sketched or drew for her and would immediately become entranced.
 

It wasn't even a few weeks after she had first seen me draw that she developed the habit of grabbing her own sheet of paper and some pens or crayons to join me and over the years she's developed quite a talent.
 

I have no doubt she's going to end up as a talented artist one day.
 

Fumbling in the front pocket of my bag for my keys, I flick my eyes to the right as I see someone coming down the street, hands in his pockets and eyes on my house, or more specifically, me.
 

His black hair brushes his shoulders and is pushed away from his eyes by a backward white snapback cap, a dark hoodie covers his loose blue tank top, his light blue jeans are scattered with holes and his white vans are stained with mud from long ago.
 

It's obvious he knows I've seen him and he alerts me to the fact he also knows by giving me a nod which I return and ing his hands deeper into his pockets he continues towards the gate that separates us.
 

I unlock the door, put my keys away, drop my bags inside the door and take a moment to make sure my card case is secure and all my cards are present.  Under the guise of checking my mailbox, I head to the gate to intercept him and see why the hell he's staring at me the way he is.
 

He hasn't even reached the gate by the time I get there and open the box, in fact, after seeing me make my way out of the house, he slows his pace and walks so slowly towards me that even Old Lady Jenna, who's about ninety, could beat him.
 

I'm just about to open my mouth and call to him when an inhumane snarl sounds from my right and I'm knocked off my feet.
 

Throwing my hands out to stop my fall, I loose what feels like half the skin on my palms and am forced to the ground by a heavy presence on my back. 
 

The growling is much louder now. A deep guttural growling that I feel rumble through the person on top of me, through to my own body where they hold me to the pavement. There is a distinct lack of fingers on the hands holding me down, instead, sharp points dig through my shirt and into my back, no doubt tearing my shirt and drawing blood.

Whatever is holding me down, doesn't sound or feel human.
 

"GET OFF HER!" I hear someone yell before my attacker is thrown off me by an unseen force and a pair of hands hurridly pull me from the ground. 
 

The back of the person who now protects me is familiar and the sandy blonde hair both reassures and concerns me. Past Luhan's shoulder, the boy I'd been anticipating stands in a battle-ready stance, three cards ready and waiting between the fingers of the hand he holds slightly above his heart.  
 

I follow the attention of both males and find a hole in the side of my neighbor's house, a limp body covered in cuts and bruises buried in the remnants of the wall and window they'd crashed through.
 

I step around Luhan and ignoring his protesting hand, jump the fence to get a closer look at my attacker. Climbing over debris, I stand a few feet away and look down at them in disgust.
 

Once upon a time, they may have been human but certainly no longer. 
 

Their closed eyes are dripping with blood tears, the eyelashes are gone and the eyebrows missing chunks with scratches and cuts. Their head is missing several chunks of hair and the flesh of their face is peeling away like an onion, a sickly mix between blue, black and green coating the rotting areas. Scarlet dipped yellow claws look to have ripped through what would have been fingernails and the knucklebones protrude, threatening to tear through the skin at any given moment. 
 

The clothes covering them are ripped and look as if they ha