I don't know what just happened or what currently is happening.

Half of the people here ran inside when Daphne started crying, the other half ran after Lyndon.

Newt and I were the firsts to run, but by the time we ran past the backyard's door, we could only go left or right, and there was no sign of Lyndon. Minho and Thomas arrived behind us. Thomas and Newt ended up going left and Minho and I went right. I'm pretty sure Hiram also followed at some point, as well as Dad.

We heard a lot of noises and I swear I heard Lyndon scream, but it echoed everywhere and I was in such a rush that my vision was blurry and I could barely catch up with what was happening and I still don't understand— I have to breathe.

We ran through the whole neighborhood, but were unable to find him. Now we're on our way to return to the house, praying Newt and Thomas did find Lyndon.

They did.

I see Newt, on his knees, with Lyndon's head on his lap. His cheek is swollen and there's abrasions on his face, but it's not too extreme.

Which leaves me wondering what the metal smell of blood is from.

Newt's yelling for help— he's calling for his father, but first to step outside the yard is Amina. Her eyes fill with panic. The rest of her body doesn't show it as she knees down next to Newt and Lyndon.

"Press your hands on his stomach," she tells Newt. Newt does as she says, hands shaking, and Amina follows her own instructions, too. Then I see what's wrong.

His shirt is ripped. The parts that are left of it, are soaked with blood. There's at least three cuts— no, slices on his stomach. Long and dirty and by the looks of it, quite deep.

The air knocks out of me. I stand frozen, heart sinking. First Thomas, now Lyndon. It can't continue like this. But I will think about it later. I have to help now.

"What do I do?" A few tears spill down my cheeks watching my unconscious brother.

"Call an ambulance." Amina presses the phone she already had in her hands into mine. It's stained with blood. I act quickly— the job is done soon, and they're on their way.

Desperately, Newt looks at Amina. "Do we move him?"

"No. Just keep him like this. His head is protected and we can't cause any more damage," she says.

The next minutes pass in a blur, though they feel slow. I don't know what to do at this point. I'm thinking about too much but nothing useful at all. I'm thinking about how Lyndon, or anyone, will ever forgive me. What would've happened if we didn't go here. I wonder if He would've hurt Lyndon even if we didn't go. I wonder why Daphne was crying. I wonder who they're gonna allow into the ambulance with Lyndon. I want to stay with him, I just don't think I'd keep him any safer by doing that. And Dad probably goes first.

But I want to go. I want to be there when he wakes back up and I want to apologize as he's peacefully sleeping and I want to watch how they heal him. I don't want to leave Lyndon right now.

Yet I do. I watch silently as the ambulance arrives a few minutes later, and they get Lyndon inside of it. Amina and Dad whisper to each other for a second, then squeeze hands. Dad ends up being the one who gets to go into the car as well.

First, I feel even sadder they didn't bother to ask me what I wanted. Then I can only be grateful they arrived fast and that Lyndon will hopefully be okay.

"Come on." Someone, I think Hiram, takes my arm and starts taking me back inside the house. "Are you okay? Not hurt?"

"I'm okay," I manage. "But I'll get some water—"

"No. You sit down. I'll get it," he assures kindly. With a nod of appreciation, I do as he says, claiming one of the black kitchen tables. Hiram hands me a glass of water, which trembles as I bring it closer to my mouth. It's hard to drink in such a panicked state.

"Hi." Whiter than I have ever seen him, Thomas sits down beside me. His head is lowered and he doesn't say much.

"Hi," my voice comes out quieter. "You alright?"

He shakes his head. "I don't think so. I don't know if you heard it in the meanwhile, but Mom got called. They told her my father escaped from prison. Said he likely got help. They are currently looking at the cameras to figure out how he left and all. They called Mom later on because they thought it would be false alarm or something at first."

And the goosebumps are back.

One guy's beating Thomas up as another one throws something through my window.

I thought both of them were Him, but that's not possible. During the dinner, Thomas whispered to me about the fight. He described the man as a blonde, older man, who smelled like alcohol and looked like he was on something.

If that would've been his father, he would've recognized him.

So the one at my window...

I can't pull much conclusions off these random thoughts, but it could be close to the truth. Especially the part where Thomas's father got help in escaping adds up.

All I can do to tell Thomas that I feel for him is sit there, holding his hand and asking if he needs something.

"Where did Minho go?" I eventually ask. "Where did somewhat everyone go?"

"Mom and Dad went upstairs to calm down," he says. "Jennifer assured they could stay as long as they wanted, so I guess I'm staying the night here. Newt's parents are right there in the living room with Hiram. Minho muttered something about going on a run to get his mind clear. I think Jennifer is getting places to sleep ready."

How dumb can Minho be? Seriously, going on a run straight after this whole attack?

But it's not like I'll be able to find him while he left minutes ago, so I continue, "And Newt?"

Thomas points outside. "He told me to leave him alone. I don't think he's doing better than any of us."

"You think he'd go crazy if I check up on him?"

The brunette shrugs. "Guess you gotta find out."

I walk outside, carefully but making sure I'm creating noises so Newt won't have a heart attack. "Hey," I say. I do my best to sound soft. "Can I get you anything?"

He shakes his head. I walk a few steps closer to see his face; pale and broken.

"He's going to be okay," I assure, speaking to both of us.

"What do you think happened?"

"I don't know exactly," I sigh out, and it's not even a lie.

It would be insane if He was here. And if Lyndon ran after him. Other than that, I can imagine Him doing serious damage.

Newt buries his head in his hands. A small cry leaves his mouth. "I don't know either. But I guess he was brave for even running out there."

"Yeah." I sit down on the lounge. "I'm sure we can visit him tomorrow, or as soon as anyone calls."

"I hope. I miss him already."

A tiny smile forms on my face at that. "He'll be okay. Wanna come inside now? Everyone is there."

"Fine." He lets go of a deep breath, then follows me.

☀︎︎

I'm waiting for Minho to return, but he hasn't. It's worrying me. Jen told me to just lie down and try to sleep, which is what I did, but I haven't been able to close my eyes yet.

I'm scared. I'm terrified of so many things at once. Scared for people, scared of people, scared by people.

I flinch so hard when the front door slams shut that I nearly roll off the bed. Then there's a silent. It lasts for about a minute, then the yelling starts.

"Oh, there he is!" Jennifer tries to sound sarcastic, but the stress is audible in her voice. "I give you multiple speeches about how you should not leave me worried like that, but you decide to not give a single shit, and go on a run straight after your friend went to the hospital because something happened in the same neighborhood you run in!"

Something gets dropped on the floor. Sounds like a jacket or something. "I needed to clear my mind, okay? I couldn't think straight—"

"Clearly not!" She shrieks. "You've got to freaking stop worrying me like that! You're the only child I have, Minho. I don't want to lose you."

"Then get the daughter you've always wanted so badly," he replies grumpily. "Can I go now? I wanna check up on Lils."

She doesn't reply immediately. Once she does, she's no longer yelling. "Honey, the fact that I always talk about how I wish for a daughter does not mean I don't love you. I'm as happy with you as I am with a daughter. Do you understand that? No matter what I say, you're my first priority. And that is exactly why I hate it when you worry me by not letting me know where you're going or deciding to do dangerous things."

More silence. So much silence that I think there won't be any other words. I guess they're hugging. I personally have tears in my eyes. That was somehow beautiful.

Then there's footsteps on the stairs. I recognize them: it's Minho. When the door to his room opens, I know for sure. A wave of sweat from the running but deodorant hit me while he knees down beside the bed.

"Hi, there." He caresses my hair out of my face. "How're you feeling?"

"Could be better, but surviving," I whisper. "You?"

"Same." He blinks a few times, as if I didn't already notice he was trying to hide the tears in his eyes from the previous moment. "I'll clean up a bit and then join you, okay?"

I nod. "Okay."