Warning!

This chapter contains violence, cruelness and blood.

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Jaejoong knew that he wasn't in trance right now, but though he found himself in the perfect white room again. All thoughts about Yunho and Changmin's birthday were blown out of his mind and he didn't remember anything about the last hours. But despite his lack of memory, he didn't feel concerned about the situation at all.

While standing around on the same spot, Jaejoong turned his head and observed the whole room, the white walls, the white wooden floor and at last the white ceiling, but even if anything looked the same, there was something different.

The young man slowly walked through the room, with his bare feet touching the cold plain floor, and he felt an invisible power pulling him towards the ebony door. Lost in thoughts about how he got into this room again, Jaejoong turned an old key between his fingers. He stopped in his movements and looked down at his hand.

Where did he got this key from?

Was this the key for – ?

The key was made of iron and – to be honest – Jaejoong would have never expected such a key. He had imagined an old, furrowed key – heavy and dirty, promising hundreds of secrets behind its door – but this key was silver and blank and looked like any other ordinary key in this world.

Slowly, Jaejoong let his fingertip slit over the plain surface, before he raised his glance again and looked at the ebony door in front of him.

Again, he felt the bodiless power building up in his stomach and he couldn't help but continue his way towards the door. Jaejoong KNEW that this key would fit the door's lock, he knew that it would open it and he knew that this was finally his chance to discover the reason for his pain.

Surprisingly, he didn't feel any fear anymore.

Jaejoong took a deep breath and a light smile appeared on his lips. Maybe, his suffering was over now... 'But maybe your suffering will just begin now', said a silent voice in his head, but he shoved it aside and shook his head slightly. This was his only chance.

Without any further hesitation, but though very deliberate and slow, Jaejoong put the key into the door's lock and turned it around. It was a little difficult – noone had opened the lock for a long, long time – but after some stuttering and rocking, Jaejoong heard a silent „click“ and the door was open.

With a last deep breath, Jaejoong pressed his hand against the heavy door and looked into the room behind it.

He didn't know what he had expected.

Actually, Jaejoong hadn't thought much about actually opening this door.

The times, he had spent in this room, had always been some kind of alibis, since he was quite sure that he would never get to know what caused his horrible nightmares. Though he truly wanted to believe in this trance, his subconscious mind had never expected any success.

Now, when the door swung open and he was able to look in the room behind it, he wasn't sure if he was surprised or disappointed:

He found himself in an nearly empty room with bare walls and a dirty window. The room was only furnished with an old mattress on the cold floor – a pillow, a blanket and an old teddy bear laid on it –, a small shelf with some toys and a small pile of clothes right next to it. There was no desk, no chair, no wardrobe – nothing but those few pieces of furniture.

Jaejoong turned his head and noticed a little boy who was sitting on the bare floor and played with some rusty matchbox cars. Silent driving-sounds left his pink lips while the car was driving on an invisible road around the boy. The car was sometimes fast, sometimes slow, sometimes it's wheels squeaked in an adventurous curve and finally it was chased by a police car.

„We'll get you! Slow down and stop your car!“, the boy mumbled silently and squeaked again, when the police car assessed an overtaking maneuver and ran the car off the road.

Jaejoong observed the little boy for some minutes and when he looked a little closer, he realized that this was the same little boy he had already met in the white room.

This was him, his younger self.

„Hey“, Jaejoong mumbled silently and went up to the little boy, but he didn't seem to notice him. The kid continued to play with his matchbox cars and made silent sounds of a police siren.

Jaejoong frowned a little and appealed to the little boy again, but he didn't get an answer.

Right when Jaejoong wanted to talk to the boy again, a loud clangor outside the door caught the attention of both Jaejoongs and in perfect synchrony, they turned their heads towards the closed door in their backs.

„HOW OFTEN DID I ING TELL YOU TO NOT DISTURB ME WHILE I'M WATCHING TV?“
„I'm sorry, I just wanted to -“

„I DON'T ING CARE WHAT YOU WANTED!“

The little boy winced, when a loud slap was heard through the walls, followed by a silent cry.

Quickly, little-Jaejoong averted his eyes from the door and continued to play with his cars.

„Twinkle, twinkle, little star...“, he started to sing scarcely audible, while the screaming in the boardering room continued. The matchbox cars drove down the invisible road again.

„STOP CRYING, IT'S YOUR OWN FAULT!“

„Please, darling, we need to -“
„SHUT THE UP!“

„...up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky....“

Another slap.

Another cry.

The boy continued to sing, but his silent voice wasn't able to cover the arguement.

Jaejoong was shocked and it was hard for him to detach his eyes from the closed door. He turned his head and looked at the little boy again, while an uneasy feeling built up in his own stomach.

„Are these our parents?“, he asked the boy silently, but – again – he didn't get an answer.

„When the blazing sun is gone, when there's nothing he shines upon, then you show your little light, twinkle twinkle through the night...“

While Jaejoong listened to the silent singing of his younger self, he didn't notice that he moved his own lips to the song's lyrics. His heart ached, when he observed the little boy who wasn't able to ignore his parents' fight.

Jaejoong raised his hand and he was about to over the boy's black messy hair, when a noisy rumbling and a choked scream cut through the walls. The splitting of glass was heard and a heavy object fell to the ground.

Jaejoong didn't know what scared him more: the noise or the deep following silence.

He turned his head and looked at the little boy, who had stopped singing and looked anxiously at the room's door. In slow motion, the boy got on his feet and made his way outside the room.

„Mommy? Dad?“, little-Jaejoong asked silently and walked down the hall, with tiny footsteps and his body filled with anxiety. He went towards the living room and stopped underneath the doorframe.

What he saw was a complete mess.

There was glass all over the living room's floor, empty beer cans were spread around an old armchair and the large glass cabinet, that always stood on the opposite wall, was knocked over. In front of the cabinet laid a young woman, who's bloody head rested on a man's lap.

The man cried heartbreakingly and over the woman's wet hair.

„I didn't mean to do this. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do this“, he whispered desperately, his hand and his lap were covered with blood.

The woman didn't move.

„Daddy...?“, Jaejoong asked again and stared at the pool of blood on the floor.

Alarmingly, the man jerked up his head. „Jaejoong...“, he whispered silently and stood up, whereby the woman's head fell on the floor.

„Jaejoong, you don't tell anyone, alright?“, the man whispered insistently and grabbed the boy's shoulders. He spread his mother's blood all over the boy's shirt.

„Jaejoong, you NEVER tell ANYONE about this, alright?“

The look in his father's eyes was mad and creepy.

„What's wrong with mommy?“, Jaejoong asked scarcely audible and tried to throw another glance at his mother, but the grip on his shoulders increased and made it impossible for him to move. A horrible thought cut through his mind and Jaejoong began to shiver.

„I didn't mean to do this, okay? It's not my fault! You mom is to blame!“, Jaejoong's father insisted and pushed Jaejoong outside the living room.

„Go to your room.“

The alcohol-soaked breath, that hit Jaejoong's face, made him nearly choke and in his state of shock, he followed his father's advice and went back to his room.

„He killed her... he killed my mother...“, the elder Jaejoong whispered silently and stared back at the living room's door, while he automatically followed his younger self to his room.

He shivered and stumbled and nausea filled up his whole body, since horrible memories started to flood his mind.

This time, he was just observing the current situation, but in his head he remembered to be part of it, to be in the little boy's situation.

Jaejoong slid down on his room's wall and tried to control his shivering body, while he looked at his younger self. The little boy had started to sing again and sat immovably on the dirty mattress. His glance was unfocused and expressionless.

Hours past by, since one of both Jaejoongs moved again.

* * * * *

When it was finally night – the light that filled up the room through the dirty window had slowly disappeared –, the door swung open and their father entered the room.

He staggered and a cloud of alcohol followed him inside the room, while he headed to the little boy. He had to gain hold on the wall to not lose his balance and when he started to speak, his tongue seemed to be heavy and dull.

„You never leave this room again, got it?“, he muttered nearly incomprehensible and staggered again. „You never …. leave.... this room... again!“, he repeated insistently and was about to fall over, but none too soon he was able to hang on to the small shelf next to the mattress.

„If you... leave this room... I'll do the same with you, ...got it?“

The little boy stared up to his father, but he didn't say a word. His eyes were big and fearful and the lump in his throat made it impossible for him to speak.
„GOT IT?!“, his father yelled angered and out his hand, but due to his lack of balance he didn't hit the little boy.

As in trance, little-Jaejoong nodded his head slowly.

* * * * *

Jaejoong didn't know, how much time had past already. He was torn between two bodies right now – he knew that he was a 23-year-old man and this was just an rememberance, but though he sometimes slipped into the little boy's body involuntarily. He felt Jaejoong's fear, he shared his thoughts and after some time, he didn't know who he actually was.

Even if this wasn't real, Jaejoong felt the enormus hunger and thirst of his younger self and since he wasn't allowed to leave the room, the boy had enforcedly urinated into a corner of the room.

Through the thin walls, they heard the silent chattering and laughing of a random TV-show which their father was obviously watching. Sometimes they heard a beer can being thrown onto the ground, but apart from this, the apartment was silent.

„I-it will be better...“, Jaejoong mumbled after endless hours and looked to the little boy, who still sat on his mattress and stared at the opposite wall. But again, he didn't hear his words.

„You'll have a wonderful family soon...“, Jaejoong continued and swallowed hard, when his stomach rumbled again. The little boy sobbed silently and wiped some tears from his pale cheeks.

Jaejoong reached out his hand and tried to over the boy's hair, but when he would have actually touched his head, his hand cut right through the boy's body as if he was a ghost.

Jaejoong grimaced his face in despair, since he truly wished to care for his younger self. „You've almost made it...“, he mumbled silently and moved next to the boy as close as possible.

* * * * *

Due to the times the sun had set and risen again, Jaejoong supposed that he and little-Jaejoong spent two days and nights in the small room – without anything to drink or anything to eat.

It was hard for both of them to keep themselves from passing out, but they didn't dare to leave this room.

They didn't find any sleep, their bodies were filled up with starvation and pain and with every single clicking noise that sounded through the apartment, the image of their dead mother appeared in their heads again.

The fantasy of a child is enormous and boundless – both in positive and in negative ways.

From what the little boy had learned in school, especially in religious education, the human's soul left its body after death.

Even if Jaejoong had loved his mother – she always tried to be caring and responsible –, the little boy couldn't banish the imagination, that his dead mother comes to him at night and haunt him. Little-Jaejoong had known about his father's aggressions and his enormous consumption of alcohol, and even he was only eight years old: Hadn't it been his duty to protect his mother?!

Now she would take revenge on him...

* * * * *

In the third night, Jaejoong woke up from his blurred state of something between insensibility and being awake. Little-Jaejoong had gotten on his feet and even if he stumbled dangerously due to his lack of food and water, he slowly made his way towards the door.

'I'll die when I stay and I'll die when I leave', Jaejoong heard the boy's thoughts in his own head and even if it costs a lot of effort, the elder Jaejoong got on his feet as well.

As quietly as possible, they opened the room's door and harkened for some seconds, but obviously their father was again in his usual alcohol delirium. The TV blared out of the living room and fortunately covered the silent creaking of the hall's floor.

The little boy stumbled when he saw a dried track of blood on the wooden floor.

Even if they knew better, both Jaejoongs automatically followed the line of blood towards their parents' bedroom. The little boy slowly turned the doorknob and peeped through the thin crack in the door.

The nauseous smell of decay and death hit their faces and made them nearly choke.

The light in the room was switched on, but the lamp was broken and flickered.

The sound of countless flies filled up the room.

Slowly, Jaejoong turned his head and saw his dead mother laying on the bedroom's floor, her arms and legs were distorted and wry. Some people say, that dead men or women look like they were sleeping, but to Jaejoong, the sight of his mother was horrible and abnormal.

„Didn't I ing tell you to not leave your room?!“

A frightened gasp left little-Jaejoong's lips, when he suddenly heard his father's depressed voice in his back.

The tall men stood buckled in the hall and bared the way back to Jaejoong's room. The smell of alcohol and vomit came from him.

He staggered and tried to gain some hold on the wall next to him, while his eyes looked mad and angrily at his son.

The little boy knew, that this was his end.

Without any further thoughts, the young Jaejoong ran towards his father and hit him as hard as possible against his torso. Due to the enormous amount of alcohol in his blood, Jaejoong's father lost his balance and fell noisily to the ground.

The little boy screamed, when his father tried to grab his ankle, but he was faster and reached the apartment's door, running outside and down the stairs as fast as possible.

His lungs seemed to burn and in his hurry, Jaejoong stumbled and fell down the last landing, banging his head against the hall's flagging.

Everything went black and the little boy felt himself fainting.

Something wet ran down his left temple and through the dark blurs in front of his eyes, he saw blood dripping on the light floor.

His body was exhausted and his muscles refused to follow his orders.

He wasn't able to go on. He wasn't able to move, he –

„COME BACK!“

The enraged voice of his father echoed through the staircase and made the little boy's thoughts disappear.

With heavy struggles, he got on his feet again and flinged the door open to leave the house.

Cold wind hit his face and though he was actually scared of the night's darkness, he didn't hesitate to step outside.

He had to force himself into every single step he took, but he finally reached the street and without wasting a single thought, he tried to bring as much space between his father and himself as possible.

Little-Jaejoong didn't know how long or far he had been walking, when he heard a loud voice in his back.

„Hey!“

Thoughts of his father and fear of death filled up his whole body again and he tried to speed up his steps, but he didn't have any power left. He stumbled again and before he was able to find any hold, he broke down to his knees and panted heavily.

His father was there, right behind him. Fast and heavy footsteps approached him.

He would get him and take him back home and there he would kill him or starve him or –

„Hey, buddy.“

The calm voice right next to him didn't belong to his father.

With his last spot of power, the little boy raised his head and looked in the face of a young man, who kneeled down right next to him and placed his hand on Jaejoong's shivering shoulder.

He wore a uniform and eyed the little boy with worried eyes.

„HYUK, HELP ME!“, the man called out over his shoulder and looked at Jaejoong again.

„Calm down, buddy, easy now...“, he mumbled with a soft voice and slowly over Jaejoong's hair.

A second police man appeared behind the first one.

„...“, he mumbled silently and kneeled down, too.

„Come on, buddy, we're right here, okay?“, he mumbled calmingly and helped Jaejoong to get on his feet again, but his legs were too wobbly to hold his body's weight.

Carefully, the police man lifted Jaejoong up on his arms and pressed him slightly against his broad shoulders.

„Calm down, there's noone who wants to harm you...“, the police man mumbled silently and threw a brief glance at his colleague, before he slowly made his way towards the police car.

Overwhelmed by the sudden safety he felt, the little boy finally lost his consciousness and fell into deep sleep.

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