“Taemin, honestly, I don’t remember you. I don’t remember anything of you. I don’t remember when we met, how we met and whether or not you were in actuality a childhood friend of mine. I don’t remember the promises I made to you or the games I played with you. And for that, Taemin, forgive me. But it’s not only you I don’t remember. I don’t remember most part of my childhood. I don’t remember thumping around in a garden like usual one-year-olds. I don’t remember wobbling across to the swings like most two-year-olds. I don’t even remember airing my knowledge of a few select words like any average three-year-old. To cut a long story short, I remember nothing of my childhood. Or to be more precise, I remember nothing that occurred before the day my parents were murdered.

               Oh, I see the shock and horror cloud your face. Perhaps disbelief thrives too. But it’s true, Taemin. My parents were murdered, on a beautiful spring afternoon in the midst of broad daylight. And I was precisely five years, four months and eleven days.

                I remember that day so clearly, so vividly that it’s almost cruel. It’s as though, I have only that memory in exchange for the horde of my childhood memories that were stolen from me. It’s sad. I was coming home from school. I had just learnt the tables of two and three and I was eager to sing it before my mother. Umma was such an amazing, pretty person. I remember running home as fast as I could, as fast as those short, stubby legs of ours would carry us. I panted my way to the front door and thumped on the door as fast as I could. Of course, I was far too short to reach the doorbell or the knocker. It was my usual way of announcing my arrival, I suppose. So I thumped as hard as I could.

                  There wasn’t a soul who came forward to open the door. That should have warned me, told me to expect something that wasn’t ordinary; but how was my naive self to know that? I wasn’t worried in the least. I reasoned out that my mother had probably gone off somewhere, perhaps to the market. I cautiously pushed at the heavy door and to my surprise, it slid right open. That should have been my second warning. But I chose to let it wither away unheeded. I walked in, skipped in; use whatever verb you may please. There was not a shadow of worry or suspicion on my face. I had always been wrapped up in my own world. It’s one of the many faults I have.

             There was a silence that enveloped me; a silence so surreal and so inexplicable that it should have been my third warning. But alas, I didn’t find that strange either. I skipped around the house, peeping into rooms, hiding behind pillars, slyly eating some of the leftover cake that mother had warned me not to touch. The fact that no one came forward to acknowledge my presence didn’t register. The fact that the house was as silent as a graveyard didn’t deter me in the least. I shudder at how self-absorbed I was. Perhaps if I wasn’t so, the shock wouldn’t have been quite so disturbing or traumatic. Maybe I might have been able to survive the incident without parting with memories so dear. But it’s futile to wish after something has occurred. Futile...

              It was only then that I saw it, that faint line of crimson that marred the white marble flooring of the house. It was flowing steadily, from a source I could not place. I immediately squatted down and gazed curiously at the river. It didn’t repel me in the least. Repulsion is not a feeling that is homed in the minds of children. Children are curious, never repelled. And neither was I.

                I slowly dipped my finger into the liquid watching as the drops began to flow down my index finger. It was sticky and had a metallic scent. I placed it as that liquid that sometimes oozed out of my skin when I suffered a fall or any other mishap. But even that revelation didn’t put me on guard. Like a perfectly blithering idiot, I began to trace the path that the blood had made. I began to crawl backwards, opposite to the direction of the flow of blood. It went on, deeper and deeper into the house before it finally ran into a heavy oaked door. My head collided with the door as I realised my path further was blocked. The door I recognized, lead to my parents’ room. Foolishly I began grinning as I somehow managed to convince myself that a surprise awaited me inside. Children never ever resort to the worst possible scenarios, rather they manage to convince themselves that the exact opposite is about to take place. And that’s what I did.

                Oh, Taemin, I braced myself for a surprise, something exciting, something magical! Perhaps that’s what made the impact even more on me. Because when I pushed the heavy door aside, the scene that greeted me was appalling! I was numb, paralysed with fear. Because before my very eyes, I saw my parents bleed to death.

               They had been bludgeoned, Taemin, they were battered beyond recognition. I shook, I was traumatized, I-I didn’t know what to do! It-it was such-such a hor-horrible sight and I couldn’t do anything. They were in front of me, Taemin. THEY WERE DYING EVEN AS I WAS STARING AT THEM. WHY DIDN’T I DO ANYTHING?”

             There was an increasing urgency in his tone and the last words were uttered with such passion, such grief, such force, it made Taemin’s heart melt. Minho swayed dangerously and then collapsed to his knees, cowering in the guilt he chose to direct upon himself. He crouched into a tight ball and began muttering, “I couldn’t live with myself, Taemin and I still can’t. It was why I chose to bury that memory as deeply as I could. I chose to smother it with layers and layers of happiness and fake cheerfulness. But today, it all came out again. That room; when I entered that room, it was like I couldn’t take it anymore. The ghosts of my past came forth again. And Taemin, I’m so, so scared...”

              Taemin silently dropped down beside Minho and put his arms around the shivering boy. He crooned gently in his ear and calmed him, dispelling all the fears he had. “It’s late, and you’re probably very tired. You should sleep. Go to your room. You’ll be better in the morning.” Taemin gently advised Minho.

               Minho shook his head, “I’ve begun the story, I might as well complete it. It’s taken me years to open up to anyone about this. So, please listen. I was rooted to my spot and I think I fainted just then, because I can’t remember anything after that except waking up in a white room with scary white women smiling at me. I later found out that one of our neighbours, who had come to visit, found us in such a state. My parents’ bodies were taken off while I was put up in the hospital where a kind looking doctor came to me and in a childish tone, you know the one that adults put on while talking to kids, tried to tell me that ‘Mommy and daddy had gone away on a long, long trip!’ I wonder why grown-ups never deem it necessary to tell children the truth. Children handle the truth far better than grown-ups.

               I nodded to him, whilst inwardly seething with anger at his blatant lying. I had somehow grown up within the span of witnessing my parents die and waking up in that god-forsaken hospital. Pain, tragedies, reality makes you grow. It breaks apart your perfect world and tells you that there is evil out there, waiting to mutilate your happy lives. I was kept in the hospital for a week or two during which the house was swept clean for clues, murder weapons or anything that might give an answer. The police found nothing. Nothing but a trail of blood and two mutilated corpses.

                 It was a failure on their part that they couldn’t sniff out any clues. It was a perfect crime. There were no leftover evidences, no fingerprints, no cigarette stub, no nothing. The murder was stamped as a case that couldn’t be solved, despite the murder having being committed in broad daylight. It wasn’t even a silent crime, or a sly one. Two fully grown individuals had been bludgeoned. It isn’t a crime easy to execute. The police gave up and the case was forgotten. Tch! See the negligible value that is associated with human life!

                  I was sent to the psychotherapist, counsellor, shrink; use the word you may please, where she gently probed into my mind that was completely shut to the world. I was traumatized and she helped me open up. But she did say that trauma sometimes affected that part of the brain which housed memories. The memories may be forgotten for a while, she said. But she assured me that I would soon regain them. Oh, vain hopes! Doctors teach us to hope in vain. I nodded dumbly. What else could I do?

            I was then sent to the neighbouring town where my grandparents lived. I lived a relatively peaceful life there, where I strove hard to smother away the ghastly memories of that day. I lived the life of a normal child, entered my teens, had flings, did everything any usual person would do. My grandparents were very kind to me. Even so, I knew my staying had become burdensome to my grandparents. After all, how were they to house a hormone-charged teenager? So the moment I turned sixteen, I packed my bags and headed back here where this mansion of a house awaited me. The house had been well-looked after all these years by the trusty caretaker and when I entered, it was quite fit for living in. I began my stay in this house. But I never visited my parents’ room. It was too painful to do so.

                Did you visit my room? You might have noticed those posters on the wall. Varied tastes, huh? Well, those posters were my stupid attempt to shield my room from the recollections of my past. I covered every inch of wall with paper to somehow block the memories of that day from getting through. It’s stupid, I know. But it’s the only thing that helps me sleep at night.

                   So, here I am, standing before you, regaling the exploits of my past in the dead of the night. It’s the first time I’ve done so, and honestly, I feel so much better. Thank you, Taemin.” Minho concluded his narrative with a shy smile to Taemin. Taemin smiled back, but inwardly, his heart shook in its cavity as he registered Minho’s painful life. It was so appalling that something so gruesome could mar the existence of a young child who had his whole life before him. He could barely conceive how Minho managed to live in the same house that once brought so much misery into his life. It was almost poignant to watch Minho move around with those powerful steps, knowing that he was suffering so greatly within. Minho was brave and there was no questioning that.

            “Sometimes I wish I had been older back then, maybe I could have probed further. I’m still pining away for closure, you know. I wish I knew why amazing creatures like my parents had to be murdered. I wish I knew why the police was unable to find any clues. I wish I could just get some inkling as to why it had to take place like the way it did. Then maybe, I might be able to sleep better at night. I’m going to try to find out why, Taemin! I will. I need to know.”

Taemin let Minho’s chin rest in the nook of his shoulder and said, “I’ll help you as much as I can, Minho. But I need to tell you this – you’re the bravest person I know. I’ve never known anyone who has suffered as much as you have and lived with his sanity. You’re the bravest, Minho, the bravest.”

              Minho blushed a fiery red, even as his insides tingled in appreciation and gratitude. He pulled away from Taemin and muttered embarrassedly, “We should probably get some sleep.”

“Yeah,” Taemin nodded, getting up on his feet. “You sleep soundly in your room, okay? That comfy sofa in the middle of the hall will serve me just right!”

“Umm...there’s no need for that. My...er...my bed is quite large. I’m sure it could hold both of us. I mean- it’s only if you –er...” Minho stuttered his way through his speech, despite the fact that he was just offering his bed to one of his own gender. It was just brotherly, Minho convinced himself, brotherly.

Taemin smiled uncertainly and said, “Thank you! That’ll be nice. I mean- I have no problem...Umm...since you’re okay with it and uh..”

“We should just sleep.” Minho observed amusedly and Taemin nodded. So, the two boys set off to Minho’s room, climbed into the spacious bed and dropped off to sleep; nearer to each other than they had ever been. Taemin listened to the rhythmic beating of Minho’s heart and took comfort in it. Minho calmed himself to the timed breathing of Taemin’s sweet self. They were in perfect contentment. They had each other to survive the night.

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Hello there! I'm back with an update for you people! Pretty fast, huh? Anyway, like I promised, here are my comment replies: (Why am I doing this? Because I'm a jobless pig who's supposed to be studying. XD)

danuyel2006: Thank you so much for your support! Hopefully, this chapter will clear things up a bit! :D

valentina: Yes, I updated! And I updated again! :D So, lovely reader, read and comment? <3

dubufiedfiza: GOSH, I LOVE YOUR USERNAME. I WILL STEAL IT TONIGHT.  Aww thank you so much! Yeah, I hope I score well too. =.=

Waterdroplet: This is what happened to Minho. ;_; I feel so mean for subjecting him to so much hardship. FORGIVE ME, MINHO.

nayeli21: Of course, Taemin's gonna definitely patch him up! BECAUSE TAE IS EFFING AWESOME. :D

ContemporaryBanana: YOU ALL HAVE SUCH AWESOME USERNAMES! Anyway, thank you so much! And yeah, school is bleh. :P

nae_haengbokae89: Wow, does your username mean something? Umm...don't miss this fic anymore. ;__; It's all yours!

lessthanthreekpop: Gosh, thank you! <3 Minho heeded your command and explained! :D

espiral852: IKR? He needs Taemin so badly. ;A;

viapeto: I luuurve drama too. XD

JustAnOwl: Wow! Thank you so much; your comment was so deliciously huge! <3 But seriously, it feels awesome to be appreciated. I hope this chapter's up to your liking! :D Analyse it all you like!

                And thank you all so much! <3

i love dubufiedfiza's username