It was supposed to be an easy, unremarkable life for Mina. Or so it seemed.
The unraveling began when her sister, Alicia, gave her heart to Kim Taehyung. A man revered and feared alike, a being carved from iron will and unshakable strength, his ever...
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"Oh no... what have I done?" My trembling voice barely carried over the oppressive silence of the room as I gazed down at the scattered letters. They lay sprawled across the floor like secrets spilled from a ruptured chest, their contents clawing at my sanity.
"Is this... is this really what I've gotten myself into?" My question hung in the air, unanswered, as I picked up another envelope. My fingers, slick with cold sweat, struggled to tear it open.
Inside, the photographs spilled out like forbidden memories. The first froze my breath... A snapshot of me on the porch, fumbling for my keys as the shadows of dusk curled around me. The next, as I flicked through the pile like some cursed deck of cards, showed me in the greenhouse, my hands tenderly cradling the watering can, surrounded by lush greenery oblivious to the voyeur.
But the final photo... Oh, the final photo. Made my blood run cold. My knees buckled, and I collapsed to the floor as it slipped from my trembling hands. It was me, sound asleep, the image taken from the window. The dark panes of glass in the background seemed to leer at me now, as though mocking my oblivion.
My breath hitched as I turned the photograph over, my fingers moving with a dread I couldn't resist. A single line scrawled in jagged handwriting screamed at me from the back, "You should've never blocked me."
The room felt suddenly smaller, the walls pressing inward with a sinister intent. The world I had known, a fragile thing built of sunlight, kindness, and routine, shattered beneath the weight of those words. I stared at them, the ink seeming to seep into my soul, and for the first time, I felt truly exposed. Vulnerable. Hunted.
I never thought he would go this far. The thought of him twisted in my mind like a barbed wire, tightening with every passing second. As much as his actions terrified me, they also affirmed one truth. I was right to sever ties with him. That man was a menace, a storm that left nothing but destruction in its wake.
But even knowing this, his memory gnawed at the edges of my sanity. Every time I thought of him, those wild, unhinged eyes, the way his smile never quite reached them, it felt like staring into the abyss. He was a shadow I couldn't shake, a presence that refused to be forgotten.
I forced myself to move, bending down to collect the scattered letters from the floor. My hands shook, not with fear now, but with an anger simmering just beneath my skin. These weren't just letters, they were weapons, designed to unravel me piece by piece.
With a steadying breath, I made my way to the kitchen. The weight of those photographs and words seemed to burn in my hands, as if they carried the essence of his madness. Without hesitation, I opened the trash can and threw everything inside.
The lid slammed shut with a finality that felt like a declaration. You have no power here. But even as the evidence of his obsession lay buried beneath the trash, I couldn't shake the feeling that his shadow still lingered, waiting to strike again.
