Not until we are lost do we begin to understand ourselves.

-Henry David Thoreau
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The alleged father is not excluded as the biological father of the tested child. Based on testing results obtained from analyses of the DNA loci listed, the probability of paternity is 76.8898℅.

Those words, written on the paper were marching in front of my eyes, making an annoying voice in my skull. I couldn't believe my eyes. How could it be possible? My father was not my actual father? So ridiculous. They were wrong. Maybe the medics have made a mistake. I didn't want to believe it. My father was the last precious thing in my life. I didn't want anyone to take that away from me.

I could not escape the endless, darkened wait to freedom. Sat in the corner of the chilled room, I could see the sharp corners at each edge of the room. The walls, painted red many years ago, connecting each corner forming a perfectly shaped square room. The dull paint on each of the four walls carried a burden of memories where psychotic women drawing closer and closer to their death had been scratching at the walls. Looking up from the corner of the cell, my light flickered as many moths were fluttering around it finding the only hope and light that was left in the prison.

It's been 3 days since the first session of the tribunal was held. Three days of misery in a little cell that didn't have any window or any source of light. Just a little lamp in the middle of the ceiling. I haven't been breathing in the fresh air for a while now. My lungs were full of the smell of damp cloth. Jackson said I should stay in here until the next session which was tomorrow. Fucking hell...

All they gave me was some rice which wasn't even warm with a little bit of old kimchi. I've missed Misun's food. The delicious smell of food when she was cooking in the kitchen. I was craving some fish and chips. How pathetically I was stuck in here.

After hearing a click creak a boxy container as always slipped towards me. Again, Kimchi rice... I really didn't want to eat but my stomach had decided that I should eat. Pulling it, I opened the container, picking up the chopsticks. Slowly, munching on that cold tasteless rice, various thoughts were crossing my mind. The dripping sound of water leaking out of the little awful toilet in the corner of the room was synchronizing with my thinkings. From time to time I could hear little rats in the wall, which made the hair on the back of my neck curl. I was so scared of little creatures. Spiders clutched their snare-strings. Their webs shimmered like meshed steel dipped in silver. Eyes a-flame with hunger, they were hoping to dine on bloated bodies and slurp on hot blood.

Suddenly, I felt something strange in my mouth. I spat out the food in my hand, rummaging, in the fear of seeing some insects and dirty things in it. Instead of that, I found a piece of paper folded. What was it? I opened it immediately and read the almost invisible words on it, "Be ready at 10."

Who the fuck has sent this? Since I've been receiving notes from that creepy anonymous source, I felt scared again. What if someone was trying to mess with me? What did it mean by be ready at 10? Lots of questions were scouring my brain but no explanations were found for any of them.

The rest of my food remained untouched. I couldn't eat anymore. It was like my hunger was gone all of a sudden. The only sound in my head was the ticking of the clock on the wall. I checked the time every five minutes. The glisten of sweat was on my forehead and I felt some of them finding their way to my hair. I was on fire on the inside. Sensing a little frenzy feel, I knew I had a fever. The fear also was not helping and my legs were weakly trembling from the coldness of the ground, exactly the opposite of my upper body, burning in fire.

I knew I've got a cold. The clothes weren't suitable for the winter weather and this shitty place was so cold. The stiff wind was howling to the walls, making an awkward sound. The stress was too much as I was waiting for the clock hands to land on 10. Only five minutes were left as I heard footsteps through the dark hallway. Hugging my arms I pressed myself against the wall as if that would help me to vanish. What if it was the killer? Thinking about the possibility, I bit harshly on my lower lip, only to make it bleed. Fuck!

The footsteps got slower and they stopped in front of my cell. I only could see the toes of a pair of black boots. The key entered and after a few clicks, the door was open, showing a man with the guard's uniform standing there. What did he want from me? Gulping loudly, my saliva was trying to moisten my dry throat but it only made me wince in pain. I definitely had a cold.

The guard started to walk to me without uttering a word. I hastily stood up, trying to stay in my place despite the feeling of collapsing which was growing little by little. His face, covered with a cap was barely recognizable. He reached for my hand and harshly pulled my arm, "Move."

His voice was strangely familiar to me but I couldn't think of anyone. As if my mind wasn't cooperating with me. I yanked his hands, trying to say something. My voice cracked as I talked, "Who are you? Where are you taking me?"

He lifted up his head, the lamp lightening his face, and now I could see his face, "Just shut your mouth and follow me, that's an order."

My muscles hardened, I was unable to talk. Just one word came out of my mouth, "Jimin!"

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1063 Words

A.N: I think it's getting even more interesting. Am I challenging your mind or what?

Don't forget to vote and comment, cherries. I appreciate it so much.

Love,
CreepyProdigy💜