Screaming. Screaming rang throughout the room as the sounds of their homes personal items were thrown from one side of the room to the other.  Tears fell down the soft cheeks as the boy cradled his head in between his knees, silently he wept as the woman he loved and adored changed into an unrecognizable monster. Same face but different inside, insanity and no control over herself, she lost herself into the depth of her mind, letting the voices control her. He could only huddle in the corner of his locked bedroom, waiting for his father to come home, for someone to come and take her or himself away from here.

Stop, please stop. I can’t do this anymore.

His voice shook even in his head, he had trouble breathing and his face was wet from watery salt that fell from his eyes, soaking his knees. He was damp with sweat, his eyes tightly shut closed. He willed for silence, for peace.

Suddenly, the screaming and the wailing stopped. He opened his eyes, and glanced around his bedroom, his eyes landing on the door. Pressing his ear to the door, he heard voices. Older men and woman talking to each other, their deep mature voices filling the house. He jerked when a knock was heard on his door, hitting his ear directly.

“This is the police, please open the door.”

Shaking, the boy cautiously grabbed the handle, trying to unlock it, but his hands wouldn’t listen.

“Is anyone in there? Can you hear me?”

The boy felt panic crawl up his throat as the door seemed to refuse to open, refusing to let him go to his wanted protection.

“I can’t.” He whispered, eyes wide, fear crawling up his spine and wrapping around him like some cruel joke. He laughed, panicked and scared. “I can’t open it.” He sobbed, laughing.

“I can help.”

He gasped, spinning around, a boy around his age staring directly into his eyes. The boy was taller, his eyes piercing into his.

Who are you?

He wondered, looking at the boy. The sound of the police speaking and pounding on the door seemed to fade; all that seemed to be in existence was the boy who stood in front of him.

“My name is Seunghyun. I can help you; grant your wish you having been begging for.”

Seunghyun whispered, stepping closer to the boy, who in return stepped back into the door.

“What do you mean?” The boy cried, confused and afraid.

“I can take you away, to a peaceful place, where they can’t hurt you.”

The boy was silently, speechless of what the boy promised. “How do I trust you?”

Seunghyun smiled, “You can decide whether you can trust me or not. But you are running out of time.” He reached his hand out, and suddenly the sounds of the police officer banging into the door jerked the boy forward. He looked at Seunghyun, oddly finding comfort in his smile, and reached out, taking the boys hand just as the police officer slammed the door opened, 

…

only to find an empty room.