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It's serene, lonely. If it wasn't for the shiny, yellow moon, everything would be dark.
I'm on the beach. Nevertheless, something is off. I'm not myself, I'm not Lee Minho. I still don't know who or what I am.
It's that dream. I know it is.
Again?
This time, though, it's heavily raining.
I'm on my way to the water through the frequent droplets, just like I was on the fourth of July, except the sky was clear back then.
I have no control of my body, at all, yet I'm half conscious. I'm in someone else's hurt body, yet some of the thoughts pretty much belong to myself.
The middle of the chest, where the heart is, hurts. Not physically, no.
It's that feeling of emptiness, heartsickness, that makes everyone ill to their stomach.
I'm not scared of what's about to happen anymore. I've grown used to it.
My vacant heart will fill with water. Worse, salty water. That's not so frightening anymore.
My body keeps pushing through the unbearable pain. This one's not an ache either.
There are a lot of thoughts swimming through my head like electrons. But they're not mine. I know that because I can't recall my sweet mother telling me to die just like her own mother recently did.
'You stressed her out, dipshit! you and your damn problems! all you did was be a bother to her. She died because of you being a fucking chore for her.' a blonde woman spat.
It's not my sweet mother, I know. I don't even try to see who it is.
Such a horrible creature doesn't deserve to be seen as a human. I won't be giving the thought of her any attention.
My eyes wet and my limbs start shaking. I look at them and see some scars; they're not made with a blade. A knife?
This time, they're horrifying to look at— my brain interferes, the memories of whoever's hurt body I'm in flooding in— they're almost as bad as mine.
The floor seems to be made out of dark wood, dust everywhere. A ton of bloody tissues are staining the yellow, dirty and old mattress on the ground.
That's the only image, for now.
I shake my head, heading towards the sea as if it's calling for me. I don't want to stop, not anymore. I want it to be finished already.
