What a night to die. The moon is bright, smiling as if enjoying itself watching me squirm in pain. What a psycho.
My body lies on a street in the middle of this shitty city, getting colder. The rest of my kind—human, if you want to be precise—surrounds me to watch the holes in my body.
I never liked being so popular. Especially not in this way. Is watching a man slowly losing his grasp on life really that entertaining? Go watch a movie or something.
Flash.
A group of high-school girls is flashing their phones, filling their galleries as I bleed more and more. Funny to imagine a picture of my dead body among a thousand cheerful selfies. Oh, now you want to look guilty? It's fine. I don't mind — go ahead. Take a good shot. Brag about having a killer photo of a corpse. Your friends will love to see it tomorrow in class.
How much longer is this?
Some people have already started walking away. They have better things to do. Maybe they are going to watch movies after all. If I weren't the one limping down here, I'd do the same.
When I left my apartment this morning, I never thought I'd get stabbed. Who did this to me? Probably one of the hundreds of people I hurt. You know, if someone had told me tonight was the night I die, I'd have picked something quicker and painless—like jumping off a cliff. That doesn't sound so bad. I had hoped to die old, full of sins. Still twenty-eight and... I guess, many sins.
Is there a god after this? If there is, I know where he'd put me. It won't be a very fun place. So I'm hoping the answer to that question is no.
My heart yells. Or is it crying? Am I afraid? No, of course not. This is just how any human body is programmed to act in these situations, trying to keep itself alive. But the wound is too deep. And I don't want to try.
Actually, now that the pain is numbing, maybe it's not so bad after all. Every big and little worry, now I can just let go.
After all,
I'm free of life.
Maybe those people who offed themselves were onto something all this time…
Chuckle.
The darkness is closing in. The moon and stars stop mocking me.
The noise is moving away. I can hear the ambulance coming. Luckily, they are too late to do anything.
A touch.
My arm is grabbed.
Someone is trying to move me. Must be the people from the hospital. Go ahead and try to fix a corpse.
Grip.
Damn, do you have to be so rough? Are you trying to kill me or something? Oh, wait, I'm already dead—
Drag.
Fuck!
Burn. My skin burns.
Who's this? There's no way a trained medical professional would be dragging a body across the street.
Stop this.
What's happening?
I force my eyelids open.
Below my feet is a body getting carried away with a stretcher. Doesn't that person look exactly like me? Wait, that is me.
I look up. A pale hand grabs my arm.
Further up, a black-haired woman dressed in a black suit.
She is dragging me toward a door with no building.
I can't tell her to stop. My mouth is filled. My lungs are full. I can't breathe. The air refused to enter.
And my surroundings… as we move closer and closer to the door, the people, the cars, the stars, moon, body, stones, street— are disappearing. Until what is left is her and darkness.
"From the deep abyss of time…"
A voice. Sweet, like a song my ears have waited for. Loud, as if it's coming out straight from my head. And lonely.
"We have found you."
My head feels… elongated, as if thousands of hands squeezing it. I can feel my eyes blinking.
A blink, time passes, days, weeks, months, years— a decade passes.
I have my eyes open all this time. Why? There is nothing much to look at.
Until there is.
White.
A single line of it, moving.
When it had already stopped, it had turned into a shape.
Another line is born out of nothing. Making circles, triangles, and rectangles. Then spheres, cones, cubes. Color seeps in, spreading through the void like drops of paint into water. Red, green, and blue.
Outlines, colors, combined.
And so a window is created. One that is holding a soft orange sky and puffy white clouds.
The creation continues around me.
Until I find myself in the corridor. At the end of it is a door, its knob glittering.
My body? Where are the red holes? The blood?
The sound of footsteps enters my ear.
The woman is gone. Replaced now with a pink low-ponytailed girl dragging me forward. Talking. She is saying something. Her voice is soft and friendly.
We approached the door. It is getting closer.
Have I been walking all this time? Was I not on the ground?
H— hold on.
I stop my feet.
What. What the fuck happened? What is going on here?
Stab.
A sharp pain. My head suffers.
*
All right, calm down now. I know this is your first time meeting them, but try to stay cool headed. You can't afford a bad first impression. Take a deep breath and… phew. I can do this.
I'd prove Maria that her big brother is someone she has to be proud of. After I get in, of course. Can't wait to find out what kind of face she makes.
Let's set that aside for now and focus on the matter at hand. Behind this door is the one and only special class this high school has. Inside lie the students I've heard so much about. And these special people are in need of a new tutor. Here I am with my two hundred credit black suit, ready to take that position.
It won't be easy to convince the four girls that I can do it. No worries! No matter how flawed they are, I believe… I believe…
*
I believe that I was supposed to be dead. My body bled to death. So how? How the hell could I stand? Blinking? Twitching? Sweating? Breathing? What is this? Why is this happening?
Stab.
*
Sohee trusted me. I can't—
*
Stop. No more.
It's making me sick to remember more.
My ears are ringing. Head throbbing. My hand slams on the glass, trying to keep me up. I want to throw up. But it won't help.
It's not in my stomach. But my brain. Like a worm, there has to be one digging in the flesh right now.
Get it out.
Stab.
*
I was the third-best student in the Center a few years ago.
*
No, you are not a worm.
*
I'll be different.
*
You are me.
I get it now. This is not my body. You are my mind, making a place in this brain, eating out his memories.
You want us to have this body as our own.
"Sunbae?" the voice of the girl.
A warm hand touches my shoulder.
"Sunbae, are you okay?"
I'm not. And not the person you think I am.
I was dead. Surely dead. Holes in my stomach.
Now none.
Maybe that was never real?
But the pain... it still stings even now.
No, that was real.
Have I failed to die?
Hah... Haha...
And now I'm back with the living? Is someone putting up a joke or something? The gods did?
How am I supposed to make sense out of this?
"Sunbae?"
Sunbae? Is that supposed to be me?
Why do you have pink eyes? Why are you making a face as if I'm the weird one here?
Maybe because I'm laughing? I guess I should stop doing that. Yet, you still look at me funny.
Maybe you want me to talk? What were your questions again? Oh, right. Sure. Whoever put me here probably wanted me to say this anyway.
"Yeah, I'm okay," the first words out of my mouth in this body.
And they were lies.
*
1st Loop: 1st
*