girls of effulgence | bts

sixteen

It was as if the breath had been sucked out of Patience.

When the doctors had taken her to their lair, she knew her life had changed. Her life had been driving on the highway and then crashed. Twice. She had no idea how the doctor's reasons were, but whatever they were, they thought she was criminal. It had started because of her outburst that had led to her ultimate downfall, but was it really a sin? A misdemeanor?

No, it wasn't any of those in the slightest. In the reporters' eyes, it was a felony. A criminal she was in the public's eyes. But for what? She supposed it was pretty bad to have an outburst in the middle of the meeting of her life but to claim to have seen demons? Dark matter? That was insane, and even Patience knew that. It would generate lots of talk within the population of South Korea, so it was perfect.

So the doctors whisked her off assuming she was mentally ill because apparently someone that had "hallucinations" was mentally screwed. She was now living the horrid life that Chastity had. The doctors were not friendly, nor kind. Tests, tests, and more tests on her, to the point where she felt like she was a guinea pig in all of their schemes - But then again, she might as well have been. Her rights had been taken away, and Patience was truly fed up.

She had lost her patience.

During the few hours she had to herself in bed, she had sneaked her phone out and typed her name and Chastity. She was horrified by the results. Her name appeared on every news team with an awful caption tagged onto her name. She skimmed through a few of the more democratic-looking sights, the ones with the ugly titles.

After moving on, she found a lighter website that shipped Chastity and Patience. Chastened. Really? She remembered slamming her phone down on her bedside table and curling up into her thin blankets in bed. It wasn't that she didn't approve of the ship, it was that she didn't like all the attention she was getting. Was that all the media was, a word-twisting company? Her words were pretzel dough and people fed money to get her words twisted into something delightful to their eye, dashing on whatever was needed to satisfy the customer, taking in no account of the bread. What if the bread didn't want to be on display for everyone to see? What if it didn't like being tanned in the oven?

But at that moment Patience realized it didn't matter. She was sold, and no longer in charge of her own body. While lying in her bed, she realized she would be eaten up. She was the pretzel. And soon, the consumer wouldn't even remember her. So why was it even worth being tested on? She was fad food, all of the rages in public for a limited time, and then discarded to a trash can, never to be thought of again.

Patience didn't want to be a psychologist.

Patience didn't want to be in the hospital.

Patience didn't like any of this one bit.

And as she lay in bed, a new emotion crept onto her like a slow spider sneaking up on its prey. Finally, it thought. It is time for my reign.

She remained quiet as her body became loud. Things were just too quiet, even though her mind was playing a bullhorn. She felt sucked up, up, up and away like a hot air balloon, and went straight up to the stratosphere.

The spider continued to climb and gain more momentum as she kept gaining height, higher and higher, faster and faster, weaker and weaker. The spider inflated to a gigantic balloon, bigger and bigger, towering over Patience like a demon cackling over its trembling prey, and just like that, swallowed her up from her bed, never to be thought of again.

For the spider had erased her from existence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wrath had seriously been minding his own business. He really had been. He was writing furiously on a piece of paper, letting his messy handwriting flood the page. He wasn't even really writing, even. His brain worked extremely fast because he was always enraged, so writing was the same. He wrote very fast. The thing was, he wrote random words to keep his temper down. The other sins had criticized him countless times for breaking a door - or a wall because his brain could not handle how smart he was. But really, he was minding his own business.