Junhong kept his whole body under the sheets, the screaming down the hall not hidden from him. He knew his father was home. He knew he was drunk. He knew he would get beat if he dared to go downstairs. He hoped if he just hid, if he just stayed under the sheets, then he wouldn't be found. But when he heard the blood-curling scream from his mother downstairs, he knew this wasn't normal. It wasn't just a normal day of yelling.

Something was wrong.

He took the sheets with him, wrapped around his frail body. He waddled down the long hall, silent as he could be. He peaked in the living room, finding his father with a gun, and his mother on the ground, the life out of her body. He just backed up quickly and quietly, closing the door to his room quietly and putting the dresser in front of the door. He laid under the bed, pulling the sheets over him. He cried quietly, holding a hand over his mouth.

Hopefully the neighbors heard the shot. Hopefully they heard the scream. Hopefully the police were on our way.

But when the door rattled and his name was yelled by his father, when the dresser started shaking from the force of his father's pushing, he knew these sheets wouldn't protect him. They protected him from the monsters in his closet, from the lightning outside the window, and from the yelling of his parents.

But they couldn't save him from his drunk father.

"Junhong open this door. Appa just wants to see you." His father's words slurred together from the alcohol, and it made him tremble in fear. He heard sirens and just prayed they were coming to this house. Saving him from the shaking door, and the dresser than has just fallen to the floor from the force.

"Seoul Police!" He heard a yell downstairs and his heart started to calm down. He crawled out of the bed, pushing his dresser out of the way. He slightly opened the door, looking out to see his father being pulled away by two men in police uniforms. A couple men were standing over his mother's body, and one was coming down the hall to him.

"Are you all right?" The man asked, red hair hanging in his face. He had a deep voice, yet it was gentle.

"I-I'm okay." Junhong whispered, wiping the tears off his face. He kept the sheets tightly around his body, clutching onto them.

"Is that your father?" The man asked, and Junhong just nodded. The man sighed, holding out his arms to the 12 year old. He lifted the boy in his arms, carrying him down the hallway. "I'll take the kid, call the CSI." The man yelled, setting Junhong in the backseat of the police car. Junhong just wrapped himself in the sheets, leaning against the window. He looked out, seeing his mother through the open door. It was then he realized.

She was never coming back.

He bit his lip and let the tears fall down his face. "U-Umma..." He whispered, chewing on his bottom lip.

"What's your name, kid?" The officer asked after he began driving.

"J-Junhong." Junhong whimpered out, gripping onto the sheets.

"I'm Bang Yongguk, okay? I'll take care of you for a while, Junhonggie. It'll be okay, I promise." The officer's voice was gentle and caring, and Junhong actually felt safe. He was like the father he never had, one that would protect him.

"T-Thanks..." Junhong whispered, smiling. "Thanks, Appa."

THE END.