"'But I don't want to go among mad people,' Alice remarked. "Oh, you can't help that,' said the cat. 'We're all mad here. You're mad, I'm mad.' 'How do you know I'm mad?' said Alice. 'You must be,' said the Cat, 'or you wouldn't have come here.'"
- Lewis Carroll
When Chou woke up the following morning, she knew that it was the end of her last night in the hospital. She would be leaving that day, escorted by some probably baffled guards that would be told that a court had found her innocent and she was to be sent back to the city for mental rehabilitation outside of a prison.
And then she would be left in the world of free people and sunlight and friends and family. She would return to her apartment and work, and would transcribe all that she had learned and heard onto a typed form that she would then try to show these boys to the world. And not as most people would think of them, but how they were.
Wasn't that her job? Wasn't that what she came here for? Wouldn't telling the world be helpful? Wouldn't it help them?
Indeed, she thought as she rubbed her eyes and wrapped her tattered blanket around her shoulders for the last time, it would be helpful in the long run. The thing that she was actually concerned about was the fact that she would be leaving. When she left, she probably wouldn't see any of them ever again. All of them except two would be expected to spend the rest of their lives in prison.
And she didn't want that. She wanted to speak with them, continue to write about them. She wanted to help them.
But this place, this hospital, this prison, it wasn't her world. She couldn't stay here. She had to leave.
So she took a deep breath, controlled her thoughts, and cringed with a smile as she heard that god-awful classical music piece on the record player for the last time.
Taehyung ran to her cell with a huge smile on his face and his hair falling into his eyes. He'd probably have to get it cut short soon, Chou thought. "Did you know it's almost my birthday?" he asked excitedly.
She grabbed her blanket more tightly around her shoulders and smiled back. "Is it? How old are you going to be?"
He shrugged. "Old enough." Then he ran off again. Chou rolled her eyes and stepped out of bed, becoming a bit more cheered when she realized that would be the last night she slept on that awful mattress.
It didn't cheer her up too much, though. She told herself that when she got out of here, she would make a point of improving the bedding. And the food. And a lot of other things. Hopefully, when she was done, the place would be an entirely different building.
She went to the table to eat her breakfast and was surprised to see that Jeongguk's place at the table was empty. He seemingly hadn't left his room yet, and considering how much he liked his routines, that meant something was very, very, wrong. She walked over to his room and found out empty of people, the bed unmade.
She bit her lip and spotted Jimin close to the record player, dancing to a piece that was softly playing. Hoseok sat on the floor close by, watching the dancer with his bad leg outstretched in front of him.
"Jiminie! Hoseok!" she called. Jimin paused and they looked at her. "Where's Jeongguk?"
"Kookie?" Jimin said. "With the doctors. Something's super wrong with him, even though he won't tell us what it is. They took him from here a couple of hours ago." He glanced at the steel doors. "I hope he's gonna be okay."
Chou sighed. "Me too." She hoped she would be able to see him again before she left. She wanted to see all of them before she left.
Hoseok staggered to his feet and walked to her. Then, in his usual rather weird fashion, started playing with the ends of her hair. "I like the short hair on you, but honestly I think long hair suits you better."
YOU ARE READING
Butterfly
Fanfiction"Invisible and inevitable, like a butterfly that beats its wings in one corner of the globe and with that single action changes the weather halfway across the world." ― Alice Hoffman ~~ Chou Tsushima is an investigative reporter with excellent train...
