A/N: It's finally here! The long awaited first chapter of TRY! Also i'm going to be trying this new thing where ech chapter has a word theme. It will only be for this story and the word will be in the title. Let me know what you think. ENJOY!!!!

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dkYBPz4jENA

Left right. Left right. Left right.

That’s all I could think. The movement of my feet being the only thing to keep my mind off what has transpired. Concentrating on my fast steps and ragged breathing, I ignored the curious stares I was getting from those I quickly passed, but more so, it kept my ears from picking up the faint screams that sounded out every now and again.

Taking a brief glance away from my goal, I found a few anxious faces looking around curiously. So they do hear the screams. It’s not all in my mind. I’m not crazy. I really experienced those things right? Of course I had, the fresh redness staining my once white blouse indicating the truth.

No! Don’t think about it Soojin. Just keep running!

A screech sounded near my ear, and a heavy body thudded into my side. I fell on my hip with a wince.  “Aish!” Looking toward the lump that fell into a garbage bin a few feet away, I sluggishly get up and utter out, “Are you okay? Um, sir?” Receiving no answer, I carefully step forward. “Ahjusshi?”

A low moan sounded stopping me in my tracks. The man stirred slightly causing a sharp iron smell to hit me. Blood!

Pabo! Why did you break concentration? You should have just kept following your feet! I mentally scolded myself.

Chancing a glance behind me, I noted the few meters it would take to reach the towering glass building that was my goal from the start. I can make it...I think.

The man twitched again receiving my attention once more. “Ahh hell!” Swiftly pivoting I made a sprint for the building, chancing the thing following me for the feeling of safety I knew would be behind the revolving doors that were getting closer and closer.

A loud growl broke my thoughts of safety. Not taking a chance to look at the man I knew was on my tail, I pushed myself harder making my feet move faster. With my sudden burst of speed, I put space between me and the ferocious person and made it to the doors in a matter of seconds.

Scrambling I burst through the glass revolver and fell to the floor in a heap. “Miss Yang?” the security guard behind the front desk asked. Not answering I scrambled to my feet breathing heavy as the middle aged man who would always greet me warmly every time I had the chance to visit my father’s building rounded his desk.

He knelt toward me trying to help me up. “Are you okay-“ his question was cut off as a roar sounded from where I had just come through. We both looked toward the doors; the man that had been chasing me was standing there legs spread, arms half raised with blood dripping from his snarling mouth. The security guard hurriedly pulled me behind him, his right hand at his hip, ready to pull his regulated gun at any moment.

“Can I help you sir?” he asked the frightening man in front of us. I mentally cursed his stupidity. Of course you can’t help him! Can’t you see he has blood dripping from his ing mouth! He’s obviously a lunatic. But then…does that make that her a lunatic as well? 

The crazed man roared again, cutting my thoughts short. Without a moment’s hesitation he rushed at us, causing a high pitched scream to escape my lips. The security ahjussi pushed me to aside as he drew his weapon. Unfortunately the other man was faster and had already pounced on him. The security guard howled in pain as a generous chunk was taken from his neck. Bright red liquid began to flow everywhere. An artery must have been hit I noted as a huge squirt gushed out slapping me in the face. I automatically reacted by scrunching my face; an attempt to avoid getting hit in the eye.

Another snarl erupted from the frenzied man before more security personal rushed in from a side door and shot him. His body stumbled back slightly from the sudden barrage. Everyone held their breath as he twitched from his position on the floor. After a second he ceased movement allowing everyone in the vicinity to breathe a sigh of relief.

“Here, let me help you miss,” another security guard offered. I accepted his help recognizing his face from an event I recently attended with my parents.

Shakily I stood a stepped toward the now still man that had only a minute ago been chasing me to this building. I nudged his body with my foot, no movement besides my own occureed. “Ma’am you shouldn’t get too close to him,” my original savior voiced as he was surrounded by his fellow security men.  Ignoring him I gazed down at the figure by my feet, sweeping my eyes over his wounds. There was a gaping wound on his neck like the one he had just given to the security ahjussi, only his was a darker brown showing the blood had long congealed. “Only the blood of people that have been dead a while does that,” I remember from a crime show i watched last week. I was mistaken of course, I had to be. The man hadn’t been dead until just recently. Until he was shot by my father’s security force. There has to be some other reason for his wound’s coloring.

Moving from his bloodied neck, I glanced at his other injuries. There were multiple holes on his body. Some in his arms, others on his legs and torso. All oozing a thick dark substance I assumed was blood but wasn’t completely convinced of due to its odd coloring and constancy. He had enough holes in him to have killed a horse, but something about the one lone wound just off set of the center of his forehead made me wonder which bullet was the one to actually kill him.

“Miss Yang why don’t you go upstairs now. I’ll have a guard you, and don’t worry we’ve already called the police,” the wounded security man stated. Worried about me when he’s hurt like that? Stupid.

I wanted to warn him, to tell him about my suspicions revolving the injury he incited. The one he received on my behalf. If he hadn’t of been trying to protect me would he have been hurt like that? The guilt ate at me, but I couldn’t voice it. I only had a hunch, and I knew they would just laugh or look at me like I was crazy. So with a heavy heart, I allowed the guy that had helped me up from the floor to me to the elevators that would take me to my father and siblings.

As we stood apart waiting for the mechanical box to reach the correct floor, I couldn’t help but think about what just happened. Wondering if my actions would cause that sweet ahjussi to die. Will he be the second person I killed today? My chest constricted and tears welled at the back of my eyes. I’m not a weak person though. I wouldn’t allow the man next to me to see me cry. I rarely did such a deed and would not allow myself to do it in front of a stranger.

“Don’t worry miss, the cops will be here any minute now. You don’t have to worry. I’m sure everything will be alright. That guy downstairs…he was probably high on some kind of drug.”

I nodded blindly, not believing him for a second. Would the cops really come? They didn’t come when I called earlier. And drugs? That’s a laugh. I’ve never seen anybody react to a drug in that way, and I would know I’ve tried my fair share of them. And even if it was a drug, what is the chance that I would have encountered more than one person having taken it in one day. And what is the chance that the person taking that drug would be her? I let out a short laugh. Ridiculous.

The elevator bell dinged, indicating we arrived at our destination. As the doors opened the man at my side tilted his hat an uttered a goodbye. I thanked him and whispered a small good luck as the doors closed behind me.

Closing my eyes, I took a big breath and released it slowly. My nerves were shot, I wasn’t sure what was keeping my on my feet. I decided not to concentrate on it though; my only goal being to get to my siblings and father.

As I rounded the corner that lead away from the elevators I found a semi-large group of people talking loud and anxiously in the area dedicated to guests and resting. We were on the 5^th floor which was one of the floors dedicated to recording studios. In the center of the colorful couches that made up its lobby were the members of Big Bang, two of the 2ne1 girls, Teddy oppa, and few other people I vaguely knew the name of. At the very center of the apprehensive group stood my father, and my older brother holding our baby sister.

When they finally noticed my presence, Minzy, the person I was closest to besides my family called out my name in worry, “Soojin!” The others stopped arguing and turned to me in surprise. I would have usually blushed, hating unwanted attention, but at the moment I was still too dazed by the day’s events to care. I took a wobbly step towards them, then another. It took all my energy to not just crash to the floor. I was tired from having run five miles to get here, and the fighting it took to get in front of these people who now looked at me with a mix of fear and worry in their eyes.

“Soojin-ah!” my father exclaimed. Why is he calling me like that? Like I did something wrong. Does he know? Does he know what I did? “Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice laced with worry. What’s he talking about? He pushed his way to the front of the group, my brother hot on his heels.

“Soojin, why is there blood all over you?” my brother asked, gently putting our sister in the hands of Dara. Blood? I looked down, remembering what was covering me. The memory of who it belonged to finally breaking me. I crashed to the floor, feeling bruises immediately form on my knees. Burying my face in my palms I began to sob harshly. The force of it racking my body.

Strong arms enveloped me, snuggling me into the crook of the person’s neck. From the slight apple and musk scent I knew it was my brother. He held me tightly as I wept. I couldn’t remember the last time I had cried liked this, if ever.

Yet even though the levy of tears had broken, I couldn’t seem to utter the words. The words that would tell all these people what a monster I was. Would make my father be further disgusted with me, and cause my siblings to forever hate me.

“Enough!” my father barked. He always hated when his children cried. Although he never did reprimand Yoojin for doing it. “Stop crying already. What happened? Why are you covered in blood? Are you hurt?” he continued, slight softer, as he kneeled next to me. I burrowed further in my brothers broad shoulder, hating when my father yelled at me. His squeaky voice that seemed to have grown so accustomed to taking that tone with me. As if it was made especially to get after me.

“Don’t yell at her,” my brother defended; always my knight in shining armor. This only made me cry harder. Mostly out of hate for myself and slightly out of hate for my father. Who just sighed and stood up again, raking his big hand through his hair.

“Don’t be mean to Unnie daddy!” a small voiced squeaked out. Peeking out from the safety of my brothers arms, I find my sister pouting with crossed arms. She had somehow wiggled in Dara’s arms to face us. She turned her gaze to me, a curious look in her eyes. “Where’s mommy unnie? Appa said she was coming with you.” I blinked, fresh tears breaking the second levy. I sobbed and uttered the words I’d been holding in. The words I never wanted to tell anyone. The words that would change my world, and the world of family forever. “She isn’t coming. She…I…I killed her!”

There they were. Finally out for the world to hear. I thought I might feel a sense of relief at hearing them. I thought maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much if spoke them aloud, even if it meant it would make them real. I was wrong though. It didn’t help. If anything it made the pain worse and the looks on everyone faces didn’t serve as a reliever either.

I felt my brother stiffen, saw my sister blink in confusion, the utter surprise on the faces of the others, and the fury that entered my fathers. The latter of who snatched me roughly from brother’s arms. My brother who didn’t put up a fight; as if he were waiting for an excuse to get rid of me. His snub hurting me more than any words could.

My father shook me once and hissed at me, “That isn’t funny Soojin. This isn’t the time for your stupid games! Where is your mother?” Games? He thought I was playing a game? Who would do that? Who would joke about killing their mother? “Do you really think so low of me?” I finally ask, a bitter smile splitting my face.

He looked at me confused, “Then why would you say something so ridiclous?”

I bowed my head, no longer being able to face him. “It is ridiclous isn’t it? That was exactly my thoughts after it happened. How could this be happening I asked myself? How could this be happening?”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LdnpcNOhjJY

Flashback

“Yabaseyo?” I asked into my phone.

“It’s appa,” the squeaky voice answered.

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes, “Yeh. What is it?”

“Tck, don’t be so rude Yang Soojin!”

Rolling my eyes again I answer, “Yeh appa. What do you need?”                                                                                                                                       

“Much better!”  I could almost hear his smirk. “I need you to go meet your mother and come to the office.”

By office I knew he meant the YG building, a place I was rarely allowed so my reaction was for more than what I led him to believe. “Eh! But I have practice today! I’m on my to the dojo right now.”

“I don’t care Soojin. Your mother and I have something to discuss with you kids. Jinsang already left to pick up Yoojin from school. Now all you have to do is come with your mother here.”

“But-“

“No more buts!” he barked. I couldn’t help the small immature chuckle from escaping my lips at his unintentional joke. “Just do as I say. Be here within the hour!” he continued before unceremoniously hanging up.

“Tck, jerk,” I mumble to myself, stuffing my phone back into my blue jean’s pocket as I switched directions from my masters gym to my home.

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“Omma!” I call out as I enter the house. It was eerily quiet, but I didn’t think much of it since I knew she was the only one home. When I didn’t get a reply like I usually would I did become slightly uneasy. My mother is the annoying talkative kind of mom that never shuts up. A smile always annoyingly plastered on her face. It was the same with my sister; something I hadn’t quite figured out if I liked or not. My brother and I took more after our father in attitude. Almost always a scowl on our face, only smiling when we really meant it. Although I wholly admit to being much less friendly than my older brother.

“Omma!” I call out again only to not receive an answer. “What the hell? Where is that damned woman?” I mumble. Throwing my backpack and gym bag on the floor, which I knew would get me in trouble later, I head to the kitchen. The kitchen was usually where my mother could be found. She loved to cook and bake. It was her hobby. She said it was a way to bond with her children; even though only Yoojin could ever be found helping her. Not to say I never did. When I was Yoojin’s age I often did house work with my mother. I thought of it as playing house; it was fun. I of course grew out of that like I did so many other things involving my parents.

Stepping into the spacious kitchen that held double islands, double sinks, double fridges; pretty much double everything, I looked around for my mom. Surprisingly I didn’t see her. That’s weird. She’s always here. Shrugging I moved to open the main fridge, the other being for excess food and alcoholic beverages. As I stepped closer my foot slid on something wet, and being unable to catch myself I fell flat on my back with a loud thump.

“Aish! What the , that hurt!” I curse in irritation.

“Language young lady!”  A soft voice breathes out.

Blinking in surprise I sit up and look toward the voice. “Omma?” I ask blinking rapidly. I couldn’t believe what my eyes were seeing. My mother, whom always stood tall and bright like the sun, was now slumped against the kitchen counter like a fading star. That smile of hers still placed on her face. “O-omma?” I ask again noticing the thing I slipped on was a red liquid. A red liquid that seemed to be flowing from my mother’s direction.

Scrambling onto my knees, I crawled over to her. Taking her small shoulders in my hand I looked in her eyes and asked, “What happened? Did you cut yourself again? Why is there so much blood?” she laughed, seemingly at my rushed questions. “What do you mean again,” she questions indignantly. I roll my eyes; everyone that knew her knew how clumsy she was. She practically hurt herself every day in some way or another.

“What happened?” I ask again, this time slightly calmer. I knew that it wasn’t a normal knife cut. There was too much blood for it to be that, and her face was far too pale for me to even try and convince myself of it being that simple. Her smile widened slightly before she removed a small bloody towel from her left arm. I gasped at the bloody mess that was once her forearm. It was brownish and old looking. “What in the hell!”  “Language!” she reprimands again. “ language! Did you call an ambulance? or Appa?”  I question.  She sighed and shook her head no.

I whacked her lightly and cursed again. “Why are you always so stupid? This isn’t a simple injury! Look at you for Christ’s sake! What happened?” She took a painful gulp, to which I rushed to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water for her. Once she took a big swig she closed her eyes and said, “There was a man. He was banging on the back door. I wasn’t going to let him in of course, but when I looked out I saw he was bleeding. I couldn’t just leave him out there. You know me, I have to help everyone.” She chuckled lightly before continuing, “I opened the door, but as soon as I did he attacked me. He bit me,” she raised her arm, “He was so much bigger than me. I couldn’t push him off, but then I saw your father’s golf set. He had left them by the back door like always, even though I had already told him to move it multiple times. You know your father though, he never listens to me unless I threaten to stop talking to him-“

“Omma!” I yell exasperated with her. Does she always have to be such ditz? She chuckled again, “Yeh yeh. So I hit him with one of the clubs. I must have hit him hard because he stumbled back. Then with all the force I could I used the club to push him out the door. He fell on his back and I closed and locked the door. I pushed one of the dining table chairs under the knob to keep him from getting in. It worked I guess because when I came over here to rinse the wound all I could here was him banging on the door, but not being able to get in. he must have got tired or something because he stopped a while ago. It’s been quite ever since. Until you got home that is.” She smiled again, opening her eyes to look at me.

I gave her another sip of water before asking, “So why didn’t you call the police, or dad, or me!” “Because I didn’t want to worry anyone,” she states simply. I look at her with exasperation. Did this stupid woman really give birth to me? “Aish!” rubbing the back of my head roughly I stand up, “I’ll go get a fresh towel from the bathroom. Don’t go anywhere!” “I’ll try not to,” she laughs. It follows me out of the room, until I’m too far to hear it. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0bewParlnTQ

“Alright I got the towels. I also grabbed the first aid kit,” I say stepping back into the kitchen. As I rounded the corner to where my mother was hidden I was stopped short.  She had stayed there as I requested, the water bottle I left with her still at her side. Even that damned smile was still on her face. The only difference between now and when I left her was that the little color that she had before was now completely drained, and her once shining brown orbs were closed in a seeming peaceful rest. If I hadn’t know better I would have thought she was asleep. Napping on the kitchen floor is something I wouldn’t put past her. She was just that weird. Yet, her still, pale form that smiled so beautifully told me she wasn’t asleep. That sometime between me leaving to retrieve the towel and returning with it, my mother had passed. My mother, whom I fought with so often, but loved without a doubt, had died. The thought brought me to my knees, the towel and first aid kit slipping from hands.

I stared disbelieving at my mother. I’m not sure how long I was like that. How long I gazed her small frame; at her bloodied clothes; at her pale face; at her brilliant smile. I don’t know how long I was there, but throughout that time not a single tear fell. I didn’t even feel like crying. If anything I felt like laughing. It all felt like a joke. It must be a joke. This is ridiculous. I was just at school not even an hour ago. I was just on the phone with my infuriating father half an ago. I was just talking to my mother not even a few minutes ago. She can’t be dead. She just can’t. It’s impossible. And yet she was. And yet I sat across from her knowing full well that I was staring at the corpse of a woman that I once called Omma.

But then it moved; she moved. It was a small twitch of her fingers, but it didn’t go unnoticed. Perking up I called out softly, “Omma?” It was like when I first entered my house; that eerie quietness was back and she was once again not answering when I called for her. “Omma?” I asked again. She didn’t answer with words, but the soft crackling of bones that sounded like gunshots in the quite as she moved her hand was enough for me. I rushed over, enveloping her tiny frame that was only slightly bigger than my own.

“You’re okay! I was so worried, I thought…I thought you had- ahhh,” I breathed into her strawberry scented hair. She moaned, making me smile with worry and relief. “Does it hurt? Here let me call an ambulance.” Standing up, I grabbed my cell from my pocket and dialed the emergency number even children knew by heart.

After what seemed forever, a woman finally answered, “Yabaseyo, this is Kim Hyojin. What is your emergency?” She sounded stressed and slightly shaky. Shouldn’t emergency operators be the definition of calm? I gave my phone a questioning look before saying, “Yeh, my name Yang Soojin. My mother is hurt. A man broke into our home and bit her.” I knew ‘breaking in’ was a bit of stretch, but what the lady didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. There was a long pause from her end. So long I thought she had hung up. “Yabaseyo? Are you still there?” “Ah, neh. Um, you see, we’ve been getting these types of calls all day so our officers and EMS workers are stretched thin. I can put you on the list, but I’m not sure how long it would take. It would probably be better if you brought her to a hospital yourself. Or lock her in a room,” she mumbled the last part, but not low enough for me to miss. I furrowed my brow ready to give her a piece of my mind, but a low growl caught my attention.

Surprised I turned toward my mother. She was no longer slumped in the corner, but was now on all fours on the kitchen island, her hair covering her face. What the ? “Omma? What are you doing?” I ask. I receive a low growl as answer. Has she finally gone crazy? “Uh, I’ll have to call you back,” I say into the phone before hanging it up.

I moved closer to my mother and reached a hand out to move her hair when she took a snap at me. I jumped back in surprise. “Are you ing crazy?” I ask looking at my almost chomped on hand, but immediately regretting my words. When I didn’t receive a reprimand like I usually would I looked up questioningly. My questions were answered when I met with a snarling face that used to belong to my mother. Her lips were curled back, her teeth bared at me. Her face was scrunched up angrily, a wild look in her now red flecked irises.

“Omma?” I question, knowing full well I wouldn’t get an answer. How many times now have I called for her without an answer? More times than I have in the past month. A sinking feeling entered the pit of my stomach. While the woman before me looked like my mother, there was something very wrong about her. Something that screamed run, so I did just that. I ran. I didn’t make it far though. My ‘mother’ pounced on me, tripping me. I hit my face hard, but paid no mind to the pain. Instead I scrambled away, pulling at the carpet that sat at the entry way of the foyer as leverage. The woman that tripped me scarping at the heels of my shoes in an attempt to get to me. I kicked out, a sickening sound resounding. I didn’t look though. I didn’t care what I hit. I didn’t care that hit her. I knew that if I didn’t hurry she would kill me.

So with that last kick I propelled my body forward. It was enough for my fingers to reach the small bin that sat at the side of the front door. The small bin that my mother bought last spring to keep our umbrellas in. She had complained that we always let water in on rainy days, so now that we had the bin we no longer had an excuse for wet floors.

As the bin toppled over, I grabbed the umbrella closest. It was the umbrella my mother hated the most. I swung out, smacking her in the side of the head. The umbrella was long with a pink swirly design, a curved wooden handle, and a pretty point at the opposite end. She toppled over to the side, but quickly got up and hovered over me. She hated this umbrella because she said it was dangerous. Snarling at me one last time, she rushed forward and jumped toward me. She had always said someone would poke their eye out with it. A wet popping sound rang out, a slimy goo flowing over the head of the umbrella. I think she was right.

I stared in horror at my now still mother. Her lower half was slumped on the floor, her upper half propped up by the umbrella in my hands. The umbrella that now grossly stuck out of her left eye. This is ridculous. I can't have just killed my mother. How can this be happening? How can she be dead? Omma!? I could feel the bile rise in my throat. Instead of letting it out, I let out a piercing scream. It was loud and high. I’m surprised glass didn’t break.

So I laid their screaming with my mother’s body hovering over me.  Like before when I watched her in the kitchen, I’m unsure how long I laid there. I’m unsure how long I screamed for. What’s more, I’m unsure how I ended up on the street running toward my dad’s office. All I knew was that I had stopped screaming, and that I had to get to the YG building. I had to get there because that was where my dad was, where my brother was, where my baby sister was. No matter how far it was I wouldn't stop. No matter how riculously painful my leg muscles became, I would continue on. 

End Flashback

By the time I finished my recounting of earlier in the day my father had long ago let go of me. So I sat on the floor the picture definition of a hot mess. My hair was messily out of place, dried blood on my face and clothes, tears clearing a path for themselves on my pale cheeks. Everyone was quite. They, like me, had sat down a while ago. They didn’t interrupt or ask a single question while I talked. The only comment coming from Seungri who said, “So that’s where those gunshots were coming from,” in reference to me telling them about what happened after I arrived in the building.

I didn’t look up when he spoke, only nodded somberly. I was afraid to look anywhere but at the floor and my red stained hands that sat in front of me.

I did however want to gauge my father and brothers reaction, but I was too much of a coward. Ashamed that I would find disgust and hate in their eyes.

After a long silence I gave up hope of anyone saying something comforting to me. I knew I didn’t deserve it. I killed my mother. What kind of monster does that? What kind of monster kills the person that gave birth to them?

A soft thud, then the pitter patter of small feet finally broke the silence. A small shadow falling in front of me. The shadow shifted and was replaced with a body. Their small hands reaching up and cupping my cheeks. They lifted my face up to look at them. My small sister who was the spitting image of the last person I wanted to face right now was staring at me. Her warm eyes and familiar smile causing a pang in my chest. “Unnie, don’t be ridiculous. The things that you described are that of a scary movies. Monsters don’t really exist silly, and mommy is definitely not one of them. You probably just had a nightmare. Mommy is probably back at home waiting for you to get her and bring her here. So don’t cry no more or ill laugh and tell all my friends that my unnie is a bigger cry baby than me!”

I couldn’t help but laugh at her childish logic. Her childish logic that seemed so real. That I wanted to believe in.

I pushed her head slightly, “Are you threatening me pabo?” She just smiled knowingly. She’s always been very mature for her age.

Gaining courage from her, I looked at the rest of the people in the room. Some looked at the floor troubled, but most had their eyes on us. None were accusing or disgusted, but all were horrified. My father and brother on the verge of tears. That’s when I realized that no matter how mature my sister seemed to be, she was still just a child and what I had just told everyone was not a lie. It was not a dream. It really did happen. My mother was not waiting for me at home. My mother was dead. Lying in the foyer with a towel draped over her, a bloody tipped umbrella at her side. 

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A/n: Did you enjoy the fist chapter? Was it scary? Was it sad? Was it better than you thought a zombie story might start off?

I'm very poud of it actually. I spent days thinking how to start this story. I think i did a very good job, but then again i'm the one writing it.

Drop a comment and let me know what you think, and if you like it subscribe. 

Until next time, -VON out! 

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