Lookism: What Am I Even Doing?

Chapter 112

(Ila's POV) - Two Days Before the Attack on Bird Garden

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, night, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four...

Who do I pray to?

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, night, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four...

God?

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, night, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four...

Buddha?

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, night, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four...

Confucius?

Who...do I pray to?

Endless streams of bloodied water washed off my hands. It doesn't matter how long I scrub or how much soap runs through my fingers, it keeps coming back. Red from blood, red from rawness, red from guilt.

Red lips...

Red cheeks...

Red Eyes...

This room is flooding again and I don't remember how to swim.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, night, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four...

Is there anyone left worth praying too? What if there's no God in this god forsaken hell. Would any God follow the path to this afterlife because that's what this is, isn't it? An afterlife for people like me. This is a well crafted hell for those that thought they could cheat death.

These voices that I hear are nothing more than manifestations of my insanity. Just like Jong-su, just like Eun, we...we are people of hell. And here is our final resting place.

The choices I've made could never be atoned for. But that's their purpose. To be choices to fuel the everlasting guilt building up inside of me. And when I die, that feeling shall follow me to my final resting place. One with a giant wall of fire I can never escape. While I walk towards it, desperate to leave the dark, with every step I take, that bloody wall of fire will consume me.

A soft murmur echoed throughout the bathroom walls. An indiscernible voice tempting me from inside its little orange prison.

It's alright. Once we finished moving everything out of the Bird Garden, Jong-su promised me through Richard that there won't be any more training. Well, not like I've been doing. Though I'm not sure what it is we've been doing. I tend to black out for my sessions just like everything else. All I know is that he has me testing the limits of my body. Whatever the fuck that's supposed to mean.

I wonder if I'll be able to relax during my vacation.

Enjoy myself? Absolutely not but I'd like to think I can sleep without nightmares.

Not that I have the right not too.

I'd do anything to get a single day of proper rest. Tonight, I'll be seeing dead birds in my dreams. I'll be swimming amongst their corpses. Flushed under the tonnage of plumage. Swirling, vibrant feathers which would cut into my skin in retaliation for the fate they've had to endure. It's not my fault but I'd gladly take the punishment.