Lookism: What Am I Even Doing?

Chapter 113

(Ila's POV)

For the longest time I believed I was the one responsible for my erratic personality. That's how it's supposed to be isn't it? As individuals we remain independent of the choices made by others unless we surpass a certain self-consciousness. Not even that but our choices to external forces in our environments shall always be independent. Independent unless influenced by another party.

With this logic I'd labeled myself independently insane. My experiences, given by others and my environment, were fully realized by my sole reactions. I acknowledged this in a way that I could come into terms with my monstrosity but now...I wonder if it was only me.

I scoffed into my constraints. Did I suddenly obtain euphoric bliss? Or had my frontal lobe gained a few extra points from the absurdity of it all?

What if I'm not to blame for what I am? At least not in its entirety? Think about it, if you'd gone through what I have then I'm merely a possibility amongst possibilities. There are plenty of ways that a person could go insane. This is my natural reaction to being taken hostage, exploited, held at the throat, threatened, beaten, put on the verge of death, drugged, and treated like a dog.

My first life wasn't a walk into the park either. I was taken advantage of, isolated, depressed, obsessive in my own fictional delusions, filled with negative repressed emotions. Then comes the fact that I died.

I died and came back to life.

I died...and came back to life...

Did I ever give myself the chance to accept that? Like truly accepting it instead of seeing it as some shitty fate that I repressed then decided to play clown?

As horrible as my first life was, I never wanted to die. My family wasn't the best yet I loved them. My mother, my father. I didn't have many friends yet there were people who I wouldn't mind saying hello to again. There were my addictions; my shows, novels, books...my webtoons.

You know what worse than being separated from all of that in death? Coming back to life knowing that you could never reclaim it again. Like seeing your ex pulled aside by your best friend. Now isolated from them both yet never to come close again. All you know is that in some distant world everything you knew was tucked away proceeding without you.

Couldn't I have at least seen my parents one more time?

Do I not have that damn fucking right! You'd think that if some God took you hostage that they'd at least given you the decency to say goodbye to it all! It doesn't matter if they could've heard me or not but there are things I wanted to let go of! Things that I wanted to say! Some bad, some good but I would've preferred becoming a vengeful spirit than being dragged here against my own accord!

What on earth happened to humanity! What on earth happened to free will!

I see now...my anger was misplaced. I should've never become such vengeful little shit. Instead, I should've raised my fists against the heavens for bringing me here and giving me this cursed fate. Maybe, just maybe, it would've been fine to have lived as a nobody but why give me the opportunity? Why introduce me to this mess? I would've been fine not knowing.

If only I stayed in the states. If only I'd never come to Korea.

Those thoughts are pretty much useless. For once my mind is clear. All of this was predestined by fate. Is this what Jong-su meant? No wonder he's so obsessed with speaking to them. I have come to a late realization. I was ignorant to brush aside my position too quickly and try to enjoy this impossible possibility.

I am in a place that isn't supposed to exist beyond a screen.

I have transformed into a fictional character of a story I loved.