River water

I pounded obsessively on the door, somehow feeling like I was being followed. I didn't know why - and really, I didn't really care at the moment. For the first time I was fascinated by something - sports, parkour. I also wanted to fly over roofs, feel the wind in my hair - and no longer be alone.
I had that idea suddenly in my head a few days ago, and for the first time in my life I was really stubborn. I wanted it. Absolutely.
My knuckles were hurting a bit, and when someone finally opened the door for me - it was Key, with disheveled hair, tired eyes and shorts.
My gaze wandered from his abdominal muscles back to his tired eyes and his hairstyle - surprise, surprise - this messy thing looked particularly good on him, and I felt the blood rush to my cheeks. He was completely perplexed - and rightly so! I quickly put on my bubble face and leaned loosely against the house wall. "You should teach me parkour ..." I gushed out of me, and you could clearly hear me trying to sound overly cool. "Huh?" Came back from him unabashedly. "You do parkour - I know that, okay? - And I saw your run on YouTube." "Well then." He then shrugged and looked at me. "Are you teaching me now?" "Nope." "But-". "I don't even know you ..." he interrupted me. I bit my lip. "But I want to learn - absolutely!" I sounded almost desperate. "Hm. Even if I wanted to teach you - I couldn't ...". "Yes yes, I know - snow and frost ...". "No. I tried once, only once to teach someone parkour - and it didn't work." "That doesn't mean that it will be the same for me!". "No - shut up, I won't teach you anything.", He grumbled and wanted to close the door. "But I still have a secret to tell you ..." I sighed. He looked at me again, perplexed. "Can I come in? I'm freezing ...". Key just shrugged again and let me in. He ran a hand through his hair. "Tell me what your name is first." "Taemin." "Strange name...". "Funny yourself ..." I hissed, just so quietly that he couldn't understand.
We were silent for a while. "So ..." I finally broke the silence. "... you - are having breakfast?" I continued and winced as a slice of white bread with a clong jumped out of the toaster and sailed across the air. Key's hand snapped up at an angle and he caught it deftly. "Yes, so - do you want to eat something too?". "No - I'm not hungry ..." was of course my quick and carefully considered answer, which was not really supported by my subsequent growling of margins. Key pointed to one of the chairs by the dining table. I sat down hesitantly, and he too finally came to the table yawning to sit next to me.We shared five toasts. Every two and a half. Key one with honey and one and a half with jam. I limited myself to peanut butter. "Where are your parents? ". "Waff?" Key mumbled with his mouth full. "Have a swallow before you speak!" I wiped a crumb of bread from my cheeks. His behavior at the table was subterranean. "I would swallow if I didn't have to die of thirst ...", Key replied grumpily and pointed to the glass of water next to me. I handed it to him and he drank greedily. "So what did you want?" "Know where your parents are ...". He thought for a moment. "Um - traveling ..." he shrugged. "Hm.".
"Well.", Key lifted his head and leaned back until the chair cracked. "What about your - secret." "You told me a few days ago that parkour was not for girls - now I'm here to see for myself." "Huh?" I sighed. "Then don't - at least show me something, and if it's just a somersault - please!". He smiled. "I see parkour not only as a sport, but rather as a creative art that helps to recognize and overcome one's own limits set by body and environment without wanting to impress others with one's skills.", Philosophized Key and threw give me an irresistible smile. "Um - oh yes, of course .." I stammered. "That was your first lesson," he smiled. "What about a lesson - that was some string of words - you better show me something!" I protested. "Hm.", He thought for a moment, but his thoughts were interrupted by his cell phone. "Wait a minute ..." he mumbled and fished his cell phone out of his jacket, which was hanging on the clothes rack. "Crap-". I turned to him. "Shit, shit, shit!". "What?" I made irritated and continued to mumble on my toast. "Uh - something just got in the way ...", he started and pulled on his black ribbed undershirt. "... I'll show you something later - I promise!". As soon as I said it, Key ran out the front door. "He's not serious now, is it?" I growled.
I decided to follow Key. So I grabbed my jacket and darted after him - at least I wanted to - but I had no idea where he was. After searching in vain for a quarter of an hour, I decided to go home.

I ran the last few steps home - at least until I saw the open front door. I stopped immediately. Dad had forgotten to close the door - was he stressed? Well one of them was definitely stressed here - namely me. I got nervous, alternating between hot and cold, and something so ominous about our house that my knees were shaking. I checked both the kitchen and the living room. My father wasn't in the bathroom either, and nobody was in the bedroom either.
There was no other way. I had to go to the dead in the basement - alone.That was one of my biggest fears as far as I could remember. I was afraid of the basement - and although Papa had assured me hundreds of times that there was nothing in the basement to be afraid of, I had always cleverly avoided the morgue and always slipped away when there was work.
The light in the hallway went out with a click.
For minutes I had been standing in front of the four well-worn steps that led to the basement, waiting for something to happen - something that would calm the racing beating of my heart or, best of all, keep me from going down. For example, my cell phone could have rang. But it remained silent. The door to the basement was ajar - but not far enough for details to be seen. Every now and then a cold breeze hit me. I rubbed my hands together to warm them up, but they stayed icy. So terribly icy that I was even scared now. And I was scared enough anyway. More than enough. I stared at the steps. I let out a slow breath and gave myself a jerk. What should happen to me? I had been down there countless times before. The only difference was - that I was alone now. My steps echoed as I went down the few steps. Without touching the door, I pushed my way through the gap. Geez. How did it look here? It was dark, except for two large candles, which gave off very little and very restless light. With twitching fingers I looked for the light switch and found it - but unfortunately it didn't respond at all. I could do what I wanted - the candles had to be enough. I put my hand where my heart was pounding and tried to calm myself down. No fire in the basement - that was actually dad's top priority. I blinked and faintly made out a few outlines. One, two, three, four, five - yes, five. There were five figures who just - stood there rigidly? A faint hiss behind me made me jump. Again a frosty, moist draft hit my neck and there was a slight bump. The door had slammed. I crouched on the floor and hoped that the figures, people or whatever had gathered in our basement wouldn't spot me. One of the two large candles went out and it got so dark that for a moment I could barely see anything. Now I could have sworn that I wasn't alone anymore. Now I could be sure. Someone was with me and the dead. "Who's there?" I asked in a somewhat husky voice. "Father? ". I held my breath and waited. Something cold, creepy slipped past me. Yes, something had touched me and made me shudder. But as soon as that happened, I suddenly felt warmer again. I heard steps in my immediate vicinity and saw how this someone took the candle that was still burning and lit the one that had gone out again.I felt my eyes bulge. I was still sitting on the floor - but I was sitting in a pool of blood. I screamed. I wanted out of here. I felt someone pull my arm up. I struggled, lashed out, moaned and briefly considered whether I should scratch or bite the intruder after all. But I didn't. Instead, I knocked over a vase of dried twigs. And now these branches began to burn brightly. In a flash I grabbed the carafe with the water and poured it over the burning branches. The flames shot up to the ceiling. It wasn't water. "Papa, you idiot! You have rearranged everything!" I howled. "You don't put alcohol in the water carafe!" The flames had made it so bright in the cellar that I could now see exactly who was lying there in the pool of blood. "Papa ..." I whispered and sank to the floor. My crying turned into a cough.
And then I smelled water, river water. Yes, it smelled like a nice summer day. The water was there. It was finally there. It would erase everything. It would save me. I just had to lie down on the floor and the flames, and ...
"Not her!" It roared through the roar of the fire. "You won't get it!" Someone grabbed me and pulled me up by the collar. "Stay awake and open your bloody eyes! Look at me!" "But the water - the river ...". "No! You have to look at me, I'm here!". With an effort I forced my eyelids up and looked into two deep black eyes. "Key ..." I coughed. Key pushed me in the corner. Then he took a run, jumped on one of the coffins, which were now mostly burning, grabbed Papa's metal hairdressing comb, dived across the room and rammed the tip of the comb into the water pipe that twisted from the ceiling like a gray worm. Water shot out in a tall fountain and threw Key to the ground.
Somebody nudged me on the side. That was Minho. He picked me up and I closed my eyes. I leaned my head against his chest and breathed in and out wearily. "We have to get out of here, Masao ..." I heard Minho mutter. I opened my heavy eyelids briefly. And there was Masao helping Key to get up. The two hurried upstairs and threw themselves groaning against the door, which surrendered and sprang open. I