▪️runaways → nct jaemin fanfic

13 ✧ 정호석

Jung Hoseok's POV

"I see.." Mr. Han sighed. "She ran away to find her parents, so you blamed yourself for not telling her." I sat in silence, nodding slightly. "But you caused all this ruckus because they ran away?" He gave me a confused look, and I shook my head.

"No." I replied, the one word being all I could squeeze out. It was so hard to bring myself to say it, to accept it. I hung my head low, trying to stop myself from breaking down, but the lump in my throat refused to budge. I kept my hands over my eyes, before mumbling.

"It was when I found out that they died."

✧✧✧✧

It had been a rough two weeks of restless nights and trying to pretend everything was okay. I put on my happy face for all the little kids, but the older ones weren't as blind. I could tell that the kids that actually cared about me were walking on eggshells around me, to not upset me.

I'd visit the school every day to get the work the kids needed to do for every lesson for when they come back - especially Mark, since his finals are coming up soon. I'd make sure there was spare food for them in the evening just in case they came back in the middle of the night and hadn't eaten in a while.

One evening I was working on the desk, and the police parked up outside and walked in. I felt my heart in my throat; I just hoped that whatever it was, it was good news.

"Welcome to Hope Orphanage." I smiled. "How can I help you?"
"Erm, we're here regarding the 8 missing teenagers." The Officer began. Here it is. Please, please be safe.
"Is it okay to talk here?" The Officer asked, so instead I took them into an interview room, closing the blinds and the door.
"Please, take a seat." I smiled, arms shaking a little.

"Nice to meet you, Mr-"
"Jung." I smiled, ushering him to tell his story.
"Okay Mr. Jung. Our police officers have been relentlessly searching the city of Seoul for the teenagers, but we couldn't find them anywhere. On the day they disappeared however, our CCTV cameras picked them up at a scrapyard, and upon visiting we'd discovered that they bought a motor home from the owner, with the number plate [——————] . We traced the motor home to a house in Daejeon; the owner was a male in his late fifties, who had previously been suspected of kidnapping and murder, but was proven not guilty."

Kidnapping and murder? God please no-

"Upon inspecting his house we found remains of body parts whose DNA matches those of two girls who had disappeared three days prior to today. When questioned the man admitted to murdering the girls, as well as stealing the motor home he drove with the same number plate and killing the 8 people in it."

I sat there in silence, staring at the officer in disbelief.
"So, that's it?" I asked, still not taking it in. "He- He ki-kill? No." I covered my hand with my mouth, feeling as if I was going to vomit. "He confessed?"
"He did." The police Officer solemnly replied. "I'm sorry I had to tell you like this."

I felt tears fall down my cheeks, and I really was about to throw up.
"Excuse me." I mumbled, standing up and running outside to the toilets. Kyungja walked past and asked me if I was okay, but I ignored her and kept running. I made it to the toilets and began hurling violently. I didn't want to believe it. I couldn't believe it. It's not real. I'm just dreaming. It's just a really bad nightmare, that's all. I felt someone rubbing my back, but right now I don't care who it is, I just want them to tell me it's not true.

I just want to turn around and see Areum and her dreamies smiling together like they normally do.

I later found out that person was Sungjin. He stayed with me the whole time, hugging me and trying to calm me down.
"Why don't you take the rest of the night off?" He whispered, gently rubbing my back to soothe me. I nodded slightly, standing up off the floor and rubbing my eyes. It was getting late anyway.

"Go for a brisk walk in the park, then come back and go to bed." He smiled. "I'll make you a hot chocolate for when you get back, okay?"
"Don't pull that on me." I smiled, teary eyed. "That's what I say to the kids when they're sad."
"What can I do?" He replied, smiling sadly. "It works every time."

I left the orphanage, walking through the dimly lit streets towards the park. The chilly air made my nose sting as I ambled my way down the streets, when I laid my eyes upon a bar. I haven't drank in a very long time, since I always have to be up early at the orphanage, and I need to be sober for when disasters happen.

No, I can't drink. That'd be irresponsible.

You possibly can't be more irresponsible than you already have. What does it matter anymore.

If I get drunk I'll get in trouble.

You just killed 8 people; are you not in trouble already?

I wandered in, ordering the deadliest whisky they owned. I hated the taste, but forced it down, as if it were a punishment. Before long I felt myself swaying, and the bartender told me to go home. I stood up and walked out, too sad to even try and disagree. Instead of going back to my room like Sungjin said, I wandered into the playroom, plonking myself down in front of the train set.

This was Areum's favourite toy as a kid. Every day after school she'd go straight to the trains, even when the boys said it was boring, she'd still play with them every day.

"These stupid trains." I mumbled, the all too familiar lump in my throat returning as I curled up to hug my knees. I couldn't help myself, the tears just kept falling and my vision got blurry again. "Stupid fucking trains." She can't play with them ever again now. Not that she'd ever want to.

It hurts. Everything hurts. I thought alcohol was supposed to make you feel better; I just feel so much worse. Why did I have to keep it from her? Why didn't I just tell her? Why didn't I check up on her that night? If I'd found out she'd gone to the party I could've just brought her home and she wouldn't have got herself into that mess.

But no. Here I am, a sorry excuse for a person, responsible for the death of 8 innocent kids. They didn't need to die.

I don't know what came over me, but in that moment I just needed to break something. Anything. The trains, the dolls, the toy kitchen, dress up clothes, I destroyed them all in a fit of rage. I was expecting it to make me feel better, but it just made me feel worse. What am I doing? Everything hurts.