That One Summer 《 Vmin 》

Chapter 39

A/n: I regret doing summer school for World Geo.

Jimin's POV

You know the saying " he wouldn't even see it coming." Well it's true, I didn't see what was about to hit me. Literally.

I left my backside unprotected, forgetting for a moment that I was in the center of a lion's den. I didn't even hear when the beast broke the bindings that I trapped it behind.

It came in raging, furious that I was intruding on the sacred ground that it claimed; upset that I was trying to steal its prized possession.

Taehyung had most likely passed out, which explains how no set of warning emitted off his slumped body. So after he had let a few tears drip down his cheek, his consciousness became no more, and I fell with those tears, with a possibility of a concussion dangerously high for me.

The frigid, rough concrete colliding first with my right shoulder, causing my grip to fluctuate, the knife escaping from my hand before I can grab it again. This cursed floor, being able to pass like it was made out of ice by how far the knife slid from my reach.

Alertness took over after that hit to the head, and I had lined up my body to face her from where I laid, kicking her with all my might squared in the stomach.

As she stumbled back with a grunt, I took that opportunity to chase after my only weapon. My arms pushing strong against the force of gravity, my legs driving forward then back trying to get me towards it; fear building in my vision.

"You shitty child," I had heard her scream behind me.

I was practically crawling desperately to where the knife was, and as it seemed like a miracle that I was able to grasp it, turning only into a curse as she got ahold of my foot at the exact moment.

It was like a horror film, how she dragged me back as my one available hand reached forward for anything that I could've hooked onto to stop the movement.

I had twist my body around in the process, turning from being on my stomach to my back.

The sight horrified me. She definitely had it, I can tell by her eyes. She had the intention to kill me that night. That look, it made me think going to hell might've been better than this moment.

I had launched the knife with full force recklessly towards her out of utter terror, and when she grabbed my wrist with complete ease, my entire body felt like it could've melt into some kind of goo.

She shoved my arm right back down so hard the concert could've cracked from the impact. Again, the knife had fell from the comfort of my grip, and that was the only thing I could've depended on was it's little sharpness to deal a fatal blow.

I struggled to reach for it, and she watched me struggle. You can tell she felt pleasure seeing me strive like a cockroach holding onto the end of its life so desperately after it had been brutally squashed.

The movement she did was swift, so simple, but it felt like my life span was being ripped out of my chest. She had kicked it away, leaving it like a tease to me, an her stepping on my wrist was harsh enough it could of shattered a bone.

I had somehow gotten up slightly from being trapped under her, but she just tackled me back down to the floor. She was screaming. Constantly, she was just yelling, no set of words forming. It sounded so ghoulish, I just felt so fragile from trepidation. She could've breathe on me and I would've crack right there on the spot.