Taemin stared out the attic window with a blanket wrapped around him. The toddler couldn’t decide if he should fall asleep right there or wait for his big brother to come home, greeting him with a smile and open arms.

A single box-like car passed down the street slowly and Taemin watched it with eagerness. It wasn’t often he saw any type of cars around here. Only his toys were the ones on wheels.

His eyes caught on to the neighbors across the street on their steps. They were two women—black hair, but if Taemin squinted really hard, he could see the silver roots on the crowns of their heads. They matched with tan pants and floral shirts, sitting together with their hands on their laps.

Taemin often saw these ladies there, pointing at his house, at the attic he was in, talking to each other about something he would never know. Maybe if he left the attic for once, could he ask them.

  “No,” the toddler animatedly shook his head, mimicking his big brother by pulling his pointer finger out and waving it left and right, “Not unless Hyung is home.”

But the curiosity was striking the cat hard. The wave of his finger stopped and he pulled the blanket closer around him, convincing himself that going downstairs wasn’t allowed.

The ladies shook their heads, one of them pointing at his house casually again, shrugging her shoulders.

The other lady nodded this time, tapping on the knees of her pants and looking up to the attic. Taemin couldn’t see her face, but with the small wave she did, he knew that she could see him.

He ducked low, afraid. He wasn’t supposed to be seen, was he? Was that allowed? Did he do bad?

  “Oh no, Hyung will be mad,” the toddler breathed, crawling back to his makeshift bed, being super careful to not be seen by the women again, “I did bad.”

The toddler laid down in his bed, shielding himself from the light to be sure he was prevented from being seen. Those ladies looking at him was bad, he just knew it. He didn’t want Jinki to be mad . . . but he still had to tell him, after all. Jinki was his model figure and always told him not to lie.

  “Taemin?”

The baby started rocking himself, hearing a woman’s light and sweet voice from below, calling him over and over. No, he would not see his mother. She needed to get better first.

  “Taemin, where are you?! Where’s my baby?!”

Taemin had heard the way she spoke before: it was really sloppy and he could barely tell what she was saying. She spoke more gibberish than him and he was only five.

But his mother . . . Wasn’t particularly slurring.

  “Where’s my baby?! Who stole my baby?! Taemin? Taemin?!”

The baby clutched the blanket tighter over him, using his arms to cover his ears and refrain listening to his mother. She wasn’t okay, yet; Jinki said she wasn’t okay, yet. He couldn’t answer her. He couldn’t go see her.

  “No, no, no—You!”

Taemin’s arms weren’t protecting him from her voice, but he stopped rocking himself when she cut short.

  “Lee Jinki!” she screeched, “Lee Jinki, where is my child?! What have you done with him?!”

Taemin opened his eyes, hearing his brother’s voice for the second time that day.

  “Mother . . .”

  “Where is he?!”

  “Where do you think I have him?”

  “Lee Jinki, I swear, if you did something to him, I will cut open your throat—”

She was cut short and silence followed afterward.

Taemin, curious as ever, got out of his blankets and quickly sat by the door on the floor, waiting to hear the next thing.

  “Someone’s watching him for me,” he heard Jinki say. Jinki taught him never to lie—so why was he lying?

  “Watching him? He needs me!”

  “Mother, please . . .”

  “I come home,” she growled, “And I thought ‘Oh, I don’t need a drink, today. I’ll just play with my son’. Well, thank you, Lee Jinki, now my son is with some stranger doing God-knows-what. I’ll be at the bar. He better be home by the time I’m back.”

The door slammed shut, and Taemin quickly went over to the window, watching as a woman with light brown hair angrily walked off the street, not even once looking at the ladies across their house.

He knew Mommy wasn’t coming back that night. At least not how she was at that moment.

  “Taemin?”

The toddler clutched on to his shirt, looking down at the carpet, “I’m not okay, Hyung.”

Jinki climbed out of the door and picked him up under his arms, situating his legs around his waist, “What’s wrong, Taemin? Let me help you.”

  “Mommy left again because I wasn’t downstairs. It’s my fault she left again,” he hiccupped, placing his face in Jinki’s shoulder.

Jinki hushed him, swaying them side to side, assuring him his mother didn’t leave because of him. He rubbed the child’s back, repeating words and producing new ones, trying to keep Taemin from crying and smile again.

Taemin held on to Jinki’s shirt and cried ‘I’m sorry’.

----Note~----

I think I'm slowing my updates with this fic finally. 

I've uploaded too often anyway. xD

More angst.

Angst. Angst. Angst.

And not apologizing. :P

So, I'd think it'd be pretty difficult trying to teach your little brother on your own about what's right and wrong and trying to determine which. So I thought that, that should be happening with Ontae.

A... OnTaeMin....MinTaeNew.... WHATEVER THEIR NAME IS, is coming up next whenever I've got it down.

Btw, anyone wanna leave suggestions for me? Got my own Henna kit, and now I have no clue what to put. Leave me a SHINee, BIGBANG, 2NE1, or BAP suggestion?

I'll see you whenever. c:

Thank you to all views, comments, and subs. <3

~FlaMinhoe

Escape to Redemption

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