(시오리 — Shiori)
My name is Shiori.
It's a weird name, honestly. My mom and dad picked it out before they got eaten— which, for the record, I told them was going to happen, and they didn't even listen, which is a whole separate thing I've decided not to think about anymore.
I sighed, walked across the supply room, and picked up one of the baskets near the door, checking the weight before I carried it.
"I'm 9 years old," I said to nobody, mostly just to confirm it for myself… yep yep. "Which means I'm still a cutie. Nyeheh." I nodded to myself. No particular reason. Because it just felt right.
Everyone in the camp kept saying we were safe now.
I didn't think so.
I looked across the camp from where I was standing, eyes going straight to the bench near the east wall where my Ahjussi was sitting. MY Ahjussi. Who was currently being sat next to by a noona, and the noona was hugging his arm. T-tightly. (•᷄⌓•᷅)
Again.
"She's kidnapping him," I said, very seriously, to no one.
