Lookism: What Am I Even Doing?

Chapter 110

(Ila's POV) - A Week Before the Attack on the Bird Garden

Our garden is filled with spectacles. The birds here take flight despite their bound wings. Blinding cages of gold do little to block out the radiance. Even as their eyes glaze over from ecstasy you can see what belonged there. A beautiful carcass of life whose feathers are nothing more than chained.

Sunlight, moss over a fallen tree stump, blooming poppies against the snow, iridescent scales. All of these beautiful things are adorned in needless wealth only to be sold to ugly hands. There, their feathers shall become ruffled and wills completely broken.

As I watch them dance on tables and laps I can't help but wonder if they have anywhere else to be but here. I find myself becoming jealous of their freedom. They don't remember who they are or what they could be. Instead they act blindly as they were trained to do. They live their lives unburdened despite their cruel fate.

Beautiful things always have a place to exist. If these birds were released to the wild they would receive haven but what about me? What of a monster who is wanted nowhere? I have no more friends, no more family.

If I pleaded enough then maybe they'd accept me once again but it'd never be the same. Always with hesitation, never reverence. I can't even be used as a beautiful figure mounted on a wall. How could I live with myself amongst the people I love when they fear me? When they think so little of me? When I've become insane?

A cardinal lifted its feathers from center stage. She puffed her chest in confidence as she slid down to the ground, her legs parting ways in seduction. Her face glittered.

Red lipstick.

Red cheeks.

Red eyes.

Surrounded by thin plumage of a custom.

Our eyes met for a brief moment. There was nothing in her gaze. Her eyes simply happened to meet mine before roaming to their next victim. Leaving them to be entranced by her sensual movements.

I let my fingers travel against the cheeks of my mask.

Later in my empty living room I lift my own arms in an attempt to copy their motions. I am an elegant creature blessed by beauty and confidence yet without ego or pride. These words repeat in my mind as I dance without music. One arm guiding the other. My feet step firmly only to glide against the carpet. Step to glide to step to glide to jump then fall.

When I'm done I'm left alone. There's no furniture, no tables, no chairs, no tablecloths, absolutely nothing worth remembering. All of it was thrown out ages ago by some anxious figure inside of me.

Here my failed performance is done. Only to perform a separate dance tomorrow. In a practice room of white filled with others like me. Given torment for the sake of amusement. Though they refuse to say it so, saying it's for science. Though it makes sense that I've always been a subject.

"Eighty percent of gangs in Jung-gu district, forty percent in Dongdaemun-gu, roughly sixty-three in Sindang and Geumho have agreed to our conditions. Ten percent have outright rejected our proposal, Jong-su wants them disposed of tonight. He wants you to take care of Yongu district on your own."

Will he not come to threaten me this time? Or does he already know I won't run?

Last night I had a strange dream. He-Ran was sitting beside me, her hands slowly patted at my hair as I fell asleep but it really was strange. Her hands felt empty and her words felt copied. As if they had fed them to me in recording. Though I'm not really sure if I care.

She whispered such pretty things to me. Then I made a promise to never leave her behind. That I'd take my medication and get better for her sake. Now I wait for them to let me see her again. Seo-ah always tells me maybe soon but I'm not too sure I believe her anymore.