"Elicia!" The scream was nothing but filled with worry. I placed my hands to the ground to avoid falling.
My vision was a little blur but clean enough to see Arnold's face pressed against the street by their leader. He was giving his all to escape from his grasp. His face was covered with blood, his hairs too turned red.
I just noticed the sky had covered by clouds and sun was nowhere to be seen, cold breeze travelled all around the Bruen Verle.
That man walked towards me slowly.
No, no, not again.
I don't want to feel that pain again. I hate feeling pain. I just act like it doesn't cause much problem but I hate it. I hate it. I hate showing people my pain too. I don't want Arnold to see me being so helpless, so hopeless, so in pain. I don't want Arnold to think me as a weak person.
The man continues to come towards me; he stands still in front of me. I breathe deeply, trying to exhale out fear and pain. The man lifts his right leg,
No. Please no.
Thwack!
I hit the wall as his leg connected to my abdomen. I cough out more blood. Coughing too feels painful now.
I cannot control it. Not anymore.
The pain is devastatingly worse than I thought it would be.
Did father felt even more pain when I last saw him siting his back pressed against the wall?
His situation was not so different from mine right now; he was in the same position as me, his clothes were drenched in blood.
But there is one difference.
He was dead; I am neither dead or dying. Nor I will until it's so pathetic like this.
I cannot give up, even if I lose.