'God will forgive you.'- that's what they told them. 'God doesn't exist.'- that's what Seulgi believed. But nobody cared what Seulgi believed in. She was the sinner- so she had to obey. That were the principles her school followed.
The Lakeland Girl...
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15 days before
Irene's POV:
She ruffled through her hair, feeling how the waterdrops dripped down to the floor. The sound of water that pelted down filled her ears, the hot steam surrounded her. Her eyes were closed, preventing to get in contact with the chloric water.
Her hands moved over her own naked body, gently and soft. She took the shampoo and massaged it into her hair. It felt good to get rid of the bizarre kitchen smell. While cooking soup or using the pots, the usual food steam filled the air.
Everything – her hair, her skin, her uniform – smelled like she had just bathed in tomato soup. It felt disgusting.
She rubbed her face with the shampoo and cleaned it with the water that was coming from above. It was still warm. Three minutes later, and the installed time setting would give her a cold surprise. But Irene usually didn't take long showers.
The glass door in front of her was misted up, showing a blurry picture of her bathroom door behind. She raised her finger, touching the transparent material to draw a short painting at the glass.
J + S = <3
She smiled like a kid while admiring her little equation. It was so childish yet so lovely to watch.
With an unpleasant squeaking, she moved her palm over the misted glass, creating a transparent strip that was slowly steaming up. Finally, she took some soap to wash her hands, making sure none of Mina's blood was sticking at her fingers.
She still felt her heart aching while thinking about Mina's bruises. The needle stitches where one of the hardest Punishments they practiced. With a plate that looked like a brush but had needles instead of soft fibers, they rubbed over their skin. Left scratches and wounds. Marks and bruises.
Then the needles sank into their skin like thousands of syringes. It felt atrocious. Sometimes she heard it – or imagined to listen to – the agonized screams of her fellow students. The pleading to stop. A second later, everything was silent.
Irene knew that the private area was isolated. No sound would escape that part of the school.
She opened the glassy door and exited the shower. Immediately, she covered her hair with a towel after drying it up. Now looking at the mirror, she could only see a blurry version of herself. With a strip of toilet paper, she removed the moisture of surface.
An exhausted Irene eyed her. She smiled, getting closer to inspect her nose, then her lips, then her eyes. They looked a bit puffy. She was tired and just wanted to sleep. Unfortunately, it was just 5pm and still two hours to bear.
A soft knocking appeared.
"No!", Irene yelled, looking down at her naked body.
The door slowly opened. Irene rushed to the handle and pushed it back, her heart beating fast. She searched for a key or something, but everything she found was small piece of soap.
