"I'm fascinated by everything you do. Your smile, your touch, your laughter. Believe me or not, I have spent my entire life waiting for this moment."
"Was I in your dreams?"
"I rarely sleep. My mind has this scary capability of being dark and twiste...
"Cause I've done some things that I can't speak, And I tried to wash you away, but you just won't leave."
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I was almost out of breath when I got back home that night. I kept running like someone was chasing me until I was on the verge of collapsing. I barged in hastily, shutting the door behind myself and making sure it was locked.
I ran for the kitchen where I anticipated seeing Taehyung. Instead, my gaze fell on a little note left on the counter.
"Went out for a bit. Be back soon. Love, T."
My heart jumped to my throat as I flew towards the window and abruptly drew the curtains. I had been so blindsided in my anxious sprinting, that I had failed to notice Taehyung's car was gone from the driveway.
After chugging down a whole bottle of water, I finally managed to regain my senses. Rubbing my temples, I couldn't help but drown in my own despair. The conversation with detective Min had managed to leave me utterly rattled. He knew. He may not know everything, but he knew about the nature of my relationship with Taehyung and that was enough to put us both in peril.
How had he figured it out so easily? How did he know about the attempted rape incident? Did someone see us? Did Jimin have a past history of harassing other girls? I wouldn't be surprised.
Perhaps it was all assumptions. Detective Min had his theories and he had been testing them on me. That's what detectives do, isn't it? They bluff and push you into a corner until you crumble. And maybe I wasn't as good of an actress as I thought I was. Not in Taehyung's absence, at least.
It seemed like me and Taehyung would have to expedite our trip. I wringed my fingers anxiously, awaiting his return so that I could tell him all about my stressful encounter with Detective Min.
I opened the fridge and started absently preparing a meal for my mother. She hadn't left her bedroom in more than a week. Every morning, I would tiptoe inside to leave her some food and water, only to see later during the day that she hadn't even touched them.
Once I was ready, I exited the kitchen and headed for the hallway. In the half-light the staircase was eerie. The house was quiet, too quiet I think. Spooky, really. It was the kind of silence that falls right before you get knifed in the back. I felt my blood chill in my veins as I started taking light steps.
I lingered in front of my mother's door. Each time I'd find myself there, I'd have to swallow back the taste of anxiety that would build up in my mouth. I twisted the doorknob and snuck my head inside. The curtains in her bedroom were drawn all the way and all the furniture had sunk into complete darkness.
"Mom? It's me again. I brought food."
There was no response, as usual. I doubted she had even left the bed. I could only see her petite form sunk underneath the blankets. She had her back turned to me and facing the window.
