"Guilt follows me like a shadow for all my stupidity in the past. Living in the fading memory, it's miserable."
○○○
artificial
She hurriedly closed the fire exit's door behind her, slipping the metallic hairpin from the latch back into her hair as she casually glanced up towards the small window etched next to the door, the moon grazing gracefully across the velvet sky as shadows grew behind her momentarily stilled figure.
Her eyes, mirroring the view in front of her twinkled with an unknown feeling as if floating within another realm until reality decided to wisp across her face with the tormenting voice in her mind. It's waiting for you. Go. Mieun's breath stumbled out in acute whirls that soon descended by the time she glanced down at her wrist, little bubbles seeping out from her skin: The knife in her other hand.
Illogically, she'd had the knife in her hand all this time, not caring for even the slightest second that she had wondered through the dark streets with the very thing tightened within her frail hands. She blinked, aura suddenly switching. She smiled sickly. "Mieun, are you sure you really want to take over? I'm protecting you. You know that right?"
Her head lolled slightly to the side, smile turning into a smirk. "Don't worry, Mieun, it'll be okay, I'll make it okay for you. For us. We can finally leave." Her voice pierced through the hollow room, the echoes amplifying the volume of her words. I hope so, Bohee. Without a second thought, Mieun's body, or should we say, Bohee, drifted out of the school gym hall soullessly. The school was empty. Of course. At this time it should be. Bohee's 'smile' never left Mieun's face as she lifted her eyes to the top of the stairs where the clock read 3 am. Witching hour.
Her breath, as if it was afraid when it's last moment would be, never faltered once. Mieun clattered up the several flights of stairs, past the abyss like boxes called classrooms, through the greyish corridors of the school until she met at the very last door. The last one she'd go through.
It's not like she so happened to pass a tall shadow on the way, it's not like someone was there, like someone was following her. It started to feel like that, like someone was there, someone; a living person, not a fragment. A person.
Bohee, let me return. I'll take it from here.
Once the jeopardized ego left her body and returned back to her conscious, the smile on Mieun's face dropped, a weak feeling of helplessness distilling within her empty heart that actually felt something more than emptiness for once. The flighty wind bounced right through her body, hair flowing back with the ghostly-like breeze as if welcoming her, allowing her.
Because Mieun's perfectly fine,
she's perfectly okay.
Thunder boomed ferociously in the gloomy skies, fog fading the sparks of gold that glittered once every 10 seconds-or-so, grey layers of dust sinking to the cold concrete floor. She breathed out, oxygen to suicide from misty puffs to nothingness, hand tightening on her chest, spilling red leaks of a bitter liquid known to be flowing within the human body. Ruffling the fabric blended blouse, blood began to bleed through the cotton of her school uniform and seep onto her skin, nails now tinted red.
She took a step closer.
A new form of classical red, the cuts on her lips cried in agonising pain as a cosmetic refill of her lipstick gushed out of her own body. A laugh, one that contained no soul, no heart, breathlessly escaped her airways.
