shattered

chapter 4

Yoongi POV

I have been watching her all day. She's the first thing that catches my attention. My eyes are constantly searching for her. I want to get to know her; but, I don't know if she will let me. She was like a bright light earlier, and then the shutters came down. I know I will have to fight my way through hell to find the real person inside.

If I hadn't seen her shut herself down earlier, I wouldn't think she belonged here. I still don't think she belongs here, but I don't know what she has been through. I don't know what demons haunt her mind.

There's always people around her as well. They are drawn to her like moths to a flame. She burns brighter than anyone I have ever known or seen, and I have seen millions of people. She outshines them all.

She would never look at me, no matter how famous I am. No matter what I do, it wont be enough for her. She looks perfect. Pure. Untouched by anything bad in this world. So why is she here?

Then there's me, I'm just a goddamned mess. I'm dirty. I don't want to dirty her up, I don't want to sully the perfection that she is; and yet... at the same time that's the only thing I want to do. I want her to get dirty with me in every sense of the word.

The day passes slowly, I'm getting a feel for the place, but I still feel like I'm walking into a new world. There's heaps happening, and yet, at the same time it feels like nothing is happening.

The world is moving around me. It's progressing. People are falling in and out of love. People are dying. Babies are being born, and I'm stuck in this place. It's like I've been frozen and I can't move forward or backwards.

Evening has fallen, and I'm feeling restless. I'm usually a night owl. I don't want to be alone in my room, nor do I want to be surrounded by people either. Maybe I can find a quiet corner somewhere.

I walk to the common area, and for once it's relatively quiet. Without the usual hustle and bustle I can take the room in. The walls are a calming pale green; but I imagine I will get sick of it soon; posters are scattered randomly over these walls. There are rules, posters about "hanging in there" etc. Usual stuff you see around Counsellors. The formica tables to the right have been cleared, and lounge chairs are scattered around the room. There is a shelf in one corner with what looks like magazines stashed on it.
As I look around I see her again. She's sitting in one of the brown lounge chairs by the window. Her hands are restless as she flicks through her books.

She looks like an angel in this light. A slightly broken one sure, but still an angel.

I want to talk to her, I want to know her secrets, her thoughts, her desires.
I don't care that I only met her today. I don't care that we haven't actually spoken a word to each other; and I really don't care that we are both in a mental institution. I want to be close to her. No. Not want. Need. I need to be close to her.

She turns and looks straight at me, as if she knew I would be standing here looking at her. As if I called her name; and suddenly, my feet are moving on their own accord. I don't control them. Hell, I don't even want to.
Her eyes are pulling me in.