I ran swiftly down the soft tan carpet of our small robins egg blue cottage, completely bare foot. My aching feet carried me so fast, it was more like flying. My breathing pitched high and low, as if I were playing a worn-out instrument, one with its solid base completely banged in with craters, one too many times dropped. I silently prayed that I wasn't too late. I silently thanked Mina for giving me a heads up about Yin. I silently stepped carefully around the chipped wooden door that opened to my shabby light pink room.
This silence was deafening.
Yin, it appeared wasn't in my room, searching for the small cold dagger, which belonged to my father, Ton Lee. I had to confiscate it from his strained hands, last week, when he was in a bad mood. Yin had three moods. Drudgingly corporative, depressed but still restraint, and the last one, the one I feared most for my older brothers cruel life,
Me, still in my unusual angst, threw pillows and books on the floor, hoping that I wou