Dream Me a Sonatine

4 - Heart Attack

Hyejoo's hands were a blur of colour, moving like lightning over the fabric. The needles flashed silver like mirrors, criss-crossing over each other with light click click clicks. Muscles rippled underneath her hands as the fine threads interlaced, a repetitive, rapid dance performing at her fingertips.

Her hands moved with livid, strong energy — the embodiment of her personality — and they were the only part of her body teeming with that energy. Under dark lashes, her eyes were glazed with an unseeing mist, and the muscles in her face were slack, leaving her expressionless. Nothing about it was right; harsh, dark shapes were blurred and paled, vulnerable, lifeless.

Ragged breaths escaped from her lips — the only signs of awareness. Her endlessly working hands shook, beads of sweat dripping down onto the woven threads. Faster, faster, faster. Unmaker, unmaker.

The needles clattered to the dorm floor. Hyejoo sat very still, her hands trembling from the relentless working, and her eyes were awake. The glassy sheen had dropped, and had been replaced with a fiery spark that hissed like suffocating flames.

On the floor, the needles were surrounded by lengths of coloured thread that had once been a small embroidery piece hanging above her bed, and also black threads the exact same width and length. The black threads had entwined around each other, whilst the tapestry was unwoven with every knot the black threads created.

Hyejoo had no idea where the black thread had come from. It seemed too dark, too unnaturally black, like the opposite of everything the tapestry had once been. She stayed motionless for another moment, not taking her eyes off the thread. Something snapped. In one swift motion, she grabbed the pile of string from the floor and wrenching the window open with one hand, threw the contents outside. She barely heard the light clatter of metal on the concrete below through the rushing of blood in her ears. Her hands, now curled into fists, still shook, not just from exhaustion but also from anger, and she couldn't pull her lead-weighed feet off the ground.

There was a cold fire within her, burning with not only rage but also fear. As she realised that, it melted away with an icy chill, and she slumped back onto the bed. Something hot slipped from her nose, and she wiped it away, her hand coming back red. Her eyes were tired, but somehow her presence seemed more vivid and alive than ever.

She stood up and stalked out the door.

***

'How'd you do on the essay, Lili?' asked Vivi smoothly to the blonde girl. Lili turned around to check everyone in the hall was listening, almost hitting Hyunjin in the face with her shiny curls.

'38 out of 40, so a Grade 1, naturally,' she said loudly.

Vivi nodded approvingly. 'I just about got away with a 39, but I suspect Herr Wald favours me, so it's more likely that I dropped a mark or two.' She sighed in a melancholy way. Hyunjin stalked out of earshot, not wanting to hear anymore. She'd barely scraped a 4 — the minimum pass mark — and was feeling pretty pissed off about it.

Her boots clicked on the ground as she strode to her next lecture: Analysing and Understanding Features of Popular (Pop) Music, but as she rounded the corner of the hall, a rough hand slammed into her chest.

'How'd the essay go, asshole?'

Hyunjin groaned inwardly, now sprawled against the wall and facing the red-lipped smile of Hyejoo. Her dark eyes were like storm clouds, and Hyunjin knew she was in 'one of those moods'. Great.

'What's got you so pissed? Did you only get a 2 instead of a 1 on your essay?' Hyunjin regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth, but she was in a foul mood and tired of dealing with Hyejoo's bullshit.