Crimson Park

Chapter 23

Months later, you found yourself seated outside a courtroom on break from your trial. You sat in silence, pretending to listen to whatever garbage the lawyer was trying to serve you. But you knew it was just that... garbage. You knew what was expected of you and you knew it would be coming soon. You had given the court everything Dongnam had wanted – now which meant all you had to do was wait. You had just been grilled by the prosecutor and it didn't go very well. You knew Dongnam would have heard by now, and you wondered how much longer he would let this charade go on.

Just like that, as if you thought it into existence, you saw a man - a man you recognized - strolling down the hall towards you – looking directly at you. Your heart immediately began to race.

It's time, you thought to yourself.

To the casual observer, this man was nothing more than a maintenance man. In fact, the casual observer probably wouldn't have even noticed him at all. So many people wandered the halls of the overcrowded courthouse, that none seemed to take notice as he darted quickly into the ladies' restroom; or thought it suspicious that he neither knocked; nor cared how long it took for him to "do his job" before exiting. But you knew better. There was a package inside that he left behind. A package specifically left for you.

It was all perfectly timed, also. You had at least 20 minutes before the court proceedings would resume.

"I have to go to the bathroom," you said, interrupting whatever nonsense the lawyer was spewing now. He looked up in the direction you were staring. He noticed the man walking swiftly out into the distance before he turned the corner and was out of sight. He now knew what was happening.

"Anything I should know before you do," he finally spoke. You looked back at him, almost confused by his question. Annoyed that this was all he cared about, nonetheless, that his pathetic mug would be the last one you'd ever look at. He'd be the person to give your last words to? What should your last words be? Something poetic or romantic, just like in the movies?

"Fuck you," you decided on. Ruthlessness was what you were known for. Why try to change that now? He didn't react. He probably heard those words directed at him more than a thousand times. It pissed you off - the least he could do for you was pretend he was hurt. So, you punched him in the dick. He heaved in pain. Satisfied, you stood up from your seat and headed off towards the restroom.

The two security guards, who had been standing close by, followed you. At least someone would be there guarding the door to prevent a bystander from walking in on something they didn't want to see.

You set your purse next to the sink and stared into your reflection. You were unsure of what you were supposed to do with yourself in your last moments. Were you supposed to reflect on your life? Ask God for forgiveness for all your indiscretions? Wasn't your life supposed to flash before your eyes?

Since none of those things came naturally, you pulled at the few loose strands of hair and smoothed them back into place. You reached into your purse and pulled out the small tube of crimson lipstick and touched up your lips. At least you should go down looking good. Not everyone had that privilege.

Then the search began. It wasn't hard. You were hoping you wouldn't have to dig through the tanks of the toilets to find it, so, you first checked the top of the towel dispenser, and there it was... a switchblade. Simple, inconspicuous black plastic handle, and a gleaming, sharp steel blade. It looked new. The thug probably paid cash for it on the way over to deliver it.

You flicked it open and turned it over in your hand, admiring the way the ceiling lights twinkled off the still-polished metal. You stretched your neck and brought the tool to your throat. That's when your heart decided to sprint a mile. You didn't want to die - you thought you were ready too. These months had been so exhausting. These years had been so exhausting. Jungkook had been the only thing in this world that had breathed life back into you, and it was all fake. You had no more hope... but still, you didn't want to die just yet - but you knew the alternative would be worse. At least this way you had some modicum of control. You pressed the tip into your flesh and paused. You were breathing heavily, and your ears were deafened by the sound of your heart pumping blood powerfully through your veins. You closed your eyes, trying to either calm yourself down or to psych yourself up to just push.