Chapter 6

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"I'm so sorry I have to do this..."

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    Minho was relieved to be able to leave the dinner table and get some time to himself. Well, if time to himself meant Changbin and Hyunjin hovering over him and repeatedly asking if he was okay. As he kept shooing them away and insisting that he was fine, he couldn't help but wonder how much they had heard. They shouldn't have had to hear anything. If living in blissful ignorance of a past they refused to remember kept them safe, he had no problem suffering in silence.

    Silence. The longer he stayed silent about what Chan was doing, and what he had done in the past, the dirtier and more ashamed he felt. Somewhere along the way, he had led himself to believe that what had happened to them was his fault. At least now, Chan was leaving them alone for the most part. While he tried not to think about it, Minho couldn't help but wonder if any of his siblings went to sleep and woke up in agony. Whether mental or physical, it still hurt the same. He prayed that it wasn't the case.

    As he rolled over in bed to face the wall, he thought about what had happened just a few hours prior, though he desperately tried to shove it into the back of his mind just like he did with everything else. It wasn't the first time Chan had done something like that, but he was desperate to make sure it was the last. Even though his leg and ribs ached horribly, that had somehow hurt worse. Chan's bare body pressed against his, Minho's face pressing against the mattress that was now wet from his tears. It was a feeling that would never leave him for as long as he lived.

    If he were to be honest, Chan talking to him and pretending as if it hadn't happened made him feel even more violated. Chan knew what he had done and the amount of pain he had caused. He knew what he had done to every single person in that house and yet he kept on living as if he were a sinless being. Minho could hardly look at himself in the mirror anymore, but Chan could do so easily. It took a special type of monster to be able to do that.

    He often fantizied about murdering Chan. If he were to do so, he would use the handgun Chan kept propped up on his weapon shelf in plain view. Chan had never used it before, but Minho could still vividly imagine himself pulling the trigger and watching as Chan's brain became part of the floor. Chan didn't deserve such a quick and painless death, but he couldn't bring himself to think about killing Chan in a brutal manner. He knew what the pain felt like and would never dare to inflict it on someone else, no matter what they had done.

    Other days, he imagined putting that bullet through his own head and swiftly ending three years worth of unbearable agony, torture, and neverending tears. The only reason he still got out of bed in the morning was because he had siblings that loved and needed him. Even though they didn't know it, Minho protected them from the horrors Chan had in store. Without him, Chan would have selected one of them to be his next victim.

    It must have been an hour that Minho faced the wall and allowed himself to be haunted by his thoughts. Changbin and Hyunjin had long since fallen asleep, their steady breathing filling the silence of the house. He assumed that everyone had gone to bed when their door creaked open, a faint glow of yellow light filling the room.

    "Come with me," Chan demanded, beckoning for him from the doorway. The message he wanted to convey went unspoken, but it was still as clear as day: He was foolish to believe that he would get away with what he said at the table without consequences.

    Minho wished that he had the nerve to say no and stand up for himself, but instead, he found himself grasping for his cane in the dim lighting and following him to the depths of the basement. Each step he took sent a burning pain shooting up his leg and chest. Whatever Chan planned on doing as punishment would most likely kill him in his weakened state. Not that he feared the thought of death in the first place.

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