The Twisted Us [INDEFINITE HIATUS]

Imperceptible, Indistinguishable, Invisible

I had a dream once.

I felt warm.

I felt special.

I felt loved.

I was happy. We were happy.

Then suddenly, I felt something wet in my palms.

It had the metallic scent of......blood.

I looked around, but saw the mirror image of myself.

I, who was holding the thing that ended it all.

I tried to scream, to run, away from that place.

But nothing happened.

My voice left my throat.

My body felt numb.

But then again, it was only a dream.

Or was it?

~★~★~★~★~★~★~★~★~★~★~★~★~★~★~★~★~★~

His footsteps echoed in the hallways as he made his way to the dance room. It was the first day of class and as usual, for the three years that he was attending St. Valentine Educational Institute, he was always an early bird. Too early maybe for others but it was just the adequate time for him to practice alone. He just doesn’t want attention. Yes, he loves being alone, that is, only at times that he wants to break free from his introvert chains and let his emotion flow through one of the things he loves the most—dancing.

Kim Jongin was not your ordinary usual college introvert. True, he was particularly very shy and tends to curl up alone in a corner and speak only when spoken to. But he was talented. He was not a genius, although he’s not an idiot as well. He is still above average when it comes to academics. His talent was in something else. He was given the skill to move his body in waves, pops and locks that can make a passerby stop and stare in awe as his face scrunches up showing the overflowing emotions in his dance.

As he arrived in his destination, he made sure to close the double doors and turn on the lights as he dropped his bag in a corner. He looked up in his wrist watch that showed 6:08am. Students usually arrive at seven thirty as regular classes would start at eight so he had plenty amount of time to dance his heart out in content until then. He started to stretch and warm his body up and a few moments later, the built-in stereo of the room was turned on and Jongin’s body flowed with ease and grace as he danced the steps he had been working on the entire summer himself.

As exhaustion swallowed his body like a raging storm, he took the moment to rest and calm his muscles down. True, he practices hard on but he was also not that stupid to work himself up that may lead him to injuries. He stays away from the things that scare him the most. One of them is the cases that may cause him to never dance again.

He was startled when he saw the door of the dance room open and a head peeked in. Before he could ask, the scent gave away the person’s identity. It was his dongsaeng.

“Oppa! Mianhae I took too long... Is your practice over?”, she asked with her usual soft and silky voice that sounded so fragile.

“Oh, yeah... Do you want me to take you to your room? It’s still a bit early though. It’s not even seven yet. You should’ve just rested and took your time.”, he was not talkative, but his sister was an exception.

“Don’t worry oppa. It’s boring in the house being alone anyway. Umma and appa went out early as well.”, she answered while taking a few steps inside and looked around the room filled with mirrors on one side and dance bars beside it.