Blood is sprouting out from my chest. I know I am dying. I am losing consciousness.
I don’t understand why this is happening to me. Why was I kidnapped? Why was I killed brutally? A gunshot through my heart?
I am just a normal girl. My parents are normal office workers. I am a normal university student on semester break. Why?
What did I do to deserve this?
Just yesterday, my parents were joking with me. They said I would graduate in a year and then they could go traveling around the world with my salary.
Everything seems so far away now.
Hatred fills my heart. I can feel my life slipping away from the hole on my chest.
“… want to save her? Give me the Book!” My kidnapper shouted at someone.
Save? There is no way to save me. My kidnapper shot me directly at the heart. I can already feel my heart stuttering. I didn’t die on spot because of my kidnapper’s ‘leniency’.
“If you want the Book, you can steal it, trick me out of it or fight me for it. Why did you have to drag a passerby into this?” someone replied, his voice filled with bone deep sorrow.
“Don’t you know already? It’s a double trap. The blood of a vengeful young girl is very useful.”
“You have already made used of her enough. Stop!”
“Can you stop me, cousin?”
My kidnapper then starts to scream, apparently in deep pain.
After a few second of silence, my kidnapper catches his breath from his ‘torture’.
“Cousin, still so soft hearted. You don’t have it in you to kill. But I am different.” He laughed haughtily. “You’ll die… Do you know what kind of curse I placed on you with the help of this poor girl’s blood?”
“Yes, I did. You can’t save her, a soul used in a dark curse will be destroyed. And as you can’t kill. I win.” The kidnapper laughed evilly. Then abruptly everything returns to silence.
I sputter out more blood. The guy kneels next to me. Did this guy kill my kidnapper?
“I am sorry for dragging you into this. I am sorry.”
If sorry can solve everything, what’s the use of the police? I want to shout. I want to demand them to give me back my life.
But all I manage to stutter is, “My… parents… mom… dad…”
“I will take care of them. I promise. I am sorry.”
With effort, I try to open my eyes and take a look at the person who promised to take care of my family.
A shadow of a young man appears in front of me. I know him. It’s … My conscious begins to drift.
“I am sorry, it’s all my fault.” He continues to apologize.
“I am… cold,” I mutter.
I wish Mom is here to hold me. I am cold. I am scared.
Gingerly I am placed in a warm embrace. Is it mom?
“Mom. Please save me, mom.” At least I can die in the embrace of my mom.
“I will save you.”
Then everything disappeared.
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