Lookism: What Am I Even Doing?

A Proper Send-Off

(Ila's POV)

Three days have passed since I've returned to Yongsan. Cherry thought it would be best to spend the last of my days in comfort. Yet I still have to see what comfort she thinks I can gain from being trapped in this chicken shop. So many things happened in these, most of them of my doing. Stepping inside this place only stirred the negative emotions in me.

To make matters worse, everyone was coming over tonight. J High, Burn Knuckles, Big Deal, Hostel. This world's future heroes will be sitting down stairs in our empty shop. I don't even want to imagine how this was going to go. And of course, I had to be in attendance.

All of this planning was stupid. A pleasantry towards them if nothing else.

Surely Cherry doesn't believe I'd follow along with any of it. I may have agreed to sacrifice my life for the sake of this story but I'm not going to listen to anyone. No matter what they tell me. If I'm going to die then it's going to be on my terms.

There's no way I'm choosing sides in all of this. Right now I stand as an independent. Apart from J-High, apart from Burn Knuckles, apart from Big Deal, apart from Hostel, and apart from whatever little backyard party shit Cherry has going on in the dark. I've come to terms that no one would take me in so I don't want to be taken. Becoming part of another group made me want to puke. Good or not.

It's the feeling of being controlled again that made me terrified. That fear burned into anger. Damn to all of this. I'm allowed to be angry right now. And I know that if I tell anyone what I'm planning to do, they'd try to talk me out of it. Daniel, Vasco, maybe Jace. They won't let me feel this anger in its full ferocity in fear that I'll end up getting hurt or taken again. That's just the type of people they are.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Scars poked out like light stripes against my skin. My fingers traced every single one of them as water from my hair poured down my bare body. How ugly and tainted I've become but hiding myself would only make my Uncle worry.

After what I've gone through, everyone probably expects me to act like a hot mess. Become some type of dumb skull fucked hermit scared of their own fucking shadow. That's how it was in my first life. People thought I was weak once I shut myself out which is why I decided to be confident here. If I'm going to be weak then I want no one else to know but me.

How ironic that I ended up back at square one.

Well, if that's how it has to be then it's about time I go back to my roots. Let's act like we got no sense. I'm a crazed fighting maniac with no sense of self preservation. When I want something, I get it. When I do something, I finish it. It doesn't matter if I'm facing a dragon with nothing more than a pen. I'm going to love every second that it rips me apart because...that's the person I'm supposed to be.

I leaned my head against the mirror and took a shaky breath. The heat fogged the mirror, condensing into small droplets.

Everything hurts but I'm too scared to take medication. Doc said what they were giving me was highly addictive. Taking anything would only drive my cravings further. My hands tightened their grip at the edges of their sink. Hot bile pushed its way from the pit of my stomach up to my throat.

A soft desperate groan pushed through my throat, hot steams pouring down into the sink. It's been hard to keep anything down so it was straight up burning heaps of yellow acid that came from my stomach.

It wasn't only the acid that was burning. At night I'd wake up in cold sweat, burning yet freezing to death all at once. This morning was especially tough. I barely managed to stop myself from stabbing myself in the chest with a pen from my desk. The cravings were that hard to manage.