Dream Me a Sonatine

10 - Hollow

Being Jung Jinsoul was a strange thing.

She'd been born with two sparks inside her: one being her psychic ability and the other being her instinctive and ardent curiosity, both leading her to discover and build things half the world had never dreamed of. When she, as a young child, had insisted that she felt more than a connection with her pet fish, her family laughed. When she had smothered her bedroom in deep purple, claiming it helped her concentrate, her family rolled their eyes.

She grew up to be as open-minded as her family were cynical, an anomaly in their lineage.

It was her open-mindedness that could've saved them, should've saved them. Instead, her naivety had doomed them. After all, who would believe the word of an eccentric child? Perhaps if she'd kept her mouth shut about ghosts and ley lines and prophecies, they would've listened to her pleas of desperation.

Instead, the house fire had swallowed them, just as Jinsoul had predicted. And the girl born with two sparks was left with one: the ability that had failed her.

Over the years, she'd changed her tack, assuming a more 'conventional' way of warning and aiding others. Hiding away underneath a roller disco, many thought her a fraud or a scammer or even mind-addled. However, the superstitious and paranoid came to her, and she provided them with honest predictions, earning a small living along the way.

She fell back into her old habits when she met Yerim and Vivi. The words tumbled from her mouth before she could stop them: Your best friend is going to die. Hurt and anger had replaced Vivi's confident expression, and for a moment, Jinsoul doubted herself. Perhaps she was a fraud, causing devastation and misery to everyone she met.

But in her veins she felt the truth flow like the gush of a river. She stayed silent, screaming inside, wanting to warn her, and then it was too late.

Death seemed to follow Jinsoul, not in the way it followed Jungeun, but just as horrific. Yet again, she stood faced by death and all she could do was watch as Chaewon died over and over again.

'What... what's h-happening?' Sooyoung's voice was like a ghost.

Through clenched teeth, Jinsoul replied, 'She is reliving the moment of her death. On loop.' It was disturbing to see. The attacker and weapon were not present, so it appeared as though Chaewon's insides were tearing themselves apart, flesh cleaved open by an invisible blade. Blood coated the ghost girl but never touched the floor. It was memory, a shade, but a terrifyingly realistic one.

Sooyoung's hands were over her mouth and Jiwoo, who'd been paralysed for a few minutes, rushed forward suddenly. She grabbed Chaewon's convulsing form and shook her, words distorted by tears.

'Chae Chaewon please look at me please stop what's happening why—' Wracking sobs enslaved her body, her head hanging like a broken marionette. Jinsoul, for the first time in a long time, was hopelessly overwhelmed. To see a girl previously filled with wit, flair and rapture reduced to a shattered wreck was mind-numbing. She wondered what little Chaewon had been like... before.

Jiwoo squeezed her eyes shut tighter, pale and shaking. Her eyes were dry now but they were smattered with red blotches. Jinsoul remained rooted to the spot, aware of her own awkwardness, as if she were the ghost in the room. Finally, Chaewon seemed to stop, hazy and smudgy and not really there at all. Sooyoung quietly appeared at Jinsoul's side.

'I'm sorry. The mirrors... we...'

Jinsoul looked her in the eyes.

'No matter what horrors you saw in there, I can promise you that you drew the longer straw. It could have been worse than you could imagine.'