MINHO’S POV

It was my 10^th birthday; I just came home from school to find the house decorated in balloons and birthday banners. My mum and dad were standing at the table with a cake in their hands, my smile grew bigger and bigger as the evening went on, I was so happy to finally spend time with my family, as I was eating my cake my mum told me something.

‘I’m pregnant Minho. You’re going to have a little brother or sister.’

‘Really?! Umma, I’m so happy!’

I hugged my mum and dad, nothing could make this day bad. Or so I thought. The phone rang and my dad answered it, unexpectedly his face went unbelievably pale and he whispered something to my mum who stood up in alarm. My mum suddenly pushed me into an empty cupboard just as the door bell rang.

‘Whatever happens, do not come out. Understand? Promise me. Promise me that you won’t come out no matter what.’ She whispered.

‘I promise.’ She kissed me on the forehead.

‘I love you.’

‘I love you too.’

She shut the door as the bell rand for a second time; I pressed the cupboard door lightly so I could just see enough to know what was going on. Two figures came into the kitchen with smirks on their faces.

‘What do you want now? We already told you and gave you everything.’ My dad tried to sound calm, but fear was written all over his face.

‘Everything isn’t enough; we just need one more thing.’

‘And what would that be?’

‘Your son. If he came with us, he would have a better life than you could ever give him.’

‘No. You will never have our son, over our dead bodies.’ My mother spoke with rage in her voice.

‘Fine, as you wish.’

One of the men smirked and he pulled out a knife from his pocket; he stepped forward as my mum stepped backwards with her back against the wall, her hands went to her stomach and she quickly glanced in my direction. The man started to get closer and closer and my dad tried to stop him but the other man stopped him.

‘Tell me where your son is.’

‘No.’

He placed the knife on her arm and slowly dragged it down her arm leaving a deep cut which started to bleed; she started to cry in pain and I saw the two men laugh. Then they went to my dad.

‘Where is your son?’

‘I don’t know.’

The men laughed again and placed the knife on my dad’s arms. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my mum try to write something down on a piece of paper, she placed it on the table as my died cried out in pain. The men had cut his arm and they had cut his left cheek, blood dripped onto his neck and went under his collar. The men went back to my mum.

‘Where is your son?’

‘I’ll never tell you.’

The man stabbed her in her thigh, he grabbed her by the hair and threw her on the floor, they started to kick her in the back and stomach; she started to cough up blood.

‘No, don’t hurt her, I’ll tell you where my son is.’

They stopped and turned towards him, my dad pointed towards the cupboard that I was in and I stopped breathing, the men started to walk towards me. I see my dad raise a rolling pin above his head, with all his strength he hit one of the men across the back of the head causing him to faint and fall on the floor; the other man spun around to face my dad.

‘Your son isn’t in the cupboard is he?’

‘No.’ I saw my dad smirk.

My dad went to hit the man but the man was to quick, he dodged my dad’s attack and lunged, I saw the knife go into my dad’s chest, the man pulled the knife out and pushed it back in causing another deep wound to appear, he did it again and again and again until my dad fell down on the floor. Dead. The man just laughed; he went towards the other man who was still lying on the floor unconscious, he picked him up and slung him on his shoulders and he walked out of the house laughing. I slowly and cautiously came out of the cupboard, I looked at my dad lying on the floor, then I looked at my mum, she was still breathing but she was barely alive. I knelt down beside her.

‘Umma.’ I sobbed loudly.

‘Don’t cry, you have to be a man now.’ My mum took my hand in hers.

‘Whatever you do, wherever you go, you must do the right thing.’

I nodded my head.

‘I love you Minho, take care of yourself.’

‘I love you too Umma.’

She closed her eyes and stopped breathing, I shook her body which was covered in blood.

‘Umma!’ I cried

‘Umma!’

I shook her again and again but to no avail. She didn’t move. I looked around the room for something to help but I only saw the piece of paper which she wrote on before, I grabbed the note and looked at it. Minho-call this number and you will be fine.I looked at number, grabbed the phone and dialled it.

‘Hello?’ I women answered the phone.

‘Hello?’ I asked cautiously. My voice shook.

‘Who is this?’

‘My name is Choi Minho, my ...’ I started to cry again.

‘It’s ok, don’t cry.’

‘It’s not ok! Appa... Umma... They’re d-d-d-d dead!’ I cry my heart out down the phone.

‘Stay there Minho, I’ll come and pick you up.’

I knelt on the floor and cried.

Today, is definitely the worst 10th birthday ever.