No Longer Mine

2

"It's not funny!" Jungkook scowled when I couldn't stop laughing. "Mei, cut it out." He rolled up his red marked math test and whacked me over the head with it.

"Ouch," I said halfheartedly. It took all my effort not to fall into another round of giggling fit at Jungkook's pout. "Alright, alright, I'll help you."

It was about two weeks into our second trimester of freshman year in high school. Two weeks since I first met Jungkook; he and I had clicked really well. I almost felt bad for Mika who often third wheeled whenever we hung out at lunch or after school.

"Just ask him out already," Mika had once said to me when we were sitting in my room.

"What? I can't just ask him out!" I'd yelped in reply.

"Why not?" Mika had demanded. "You have the biggest crush on him. Literally the dinosaurs in the Mesozoic Era can see you ogling him."

"I ogle him?" I'd gasped in dismay.

Mika had deadpanned at me. "Man, now I know what killed the dinosaurs. You ogle at him every single damn second he looks away, Mei!"

I swallowed as Mika's words echoed in my head. Did I stare at Jungkook too often? As if on cue my eyes automatically looked over at the dark-haired boy. Who could blame me though? He was fun to stare at. His soft cheekbones, his sloping nose, his jawline—

"Hey chipmunk!" I jolted as Jungkook snapped his fingers at me. "Quit staring at me and help me."

Crap, crap, crap.

"Um, well where do you want to start?" I babbled, flustered.

Jungkook arched an amused brow at me. "Well let's see. Maybe problem number one? You know, the one you were laughing hysterically about for the past five minutes."

Oh right. An ugly snigger escaped me once again and I quickly clapped a hand over my mouth to stop the horrid noise.

"Alright, Jungkook," I cleared my throat. "You see, the problem is asking that if Car A accelerates 3 meters per second from a stop in one direction, and Car B starts 6 seconds later at the same stop and accelerates at 5 meters per second; how long does it take for Car B to overtake Car A? Show work."

"Yeah, so?" Jungkook tapped his fingers impatiently at the desk we were sitting at.

I fixed him with the most disproving teacher gaze I could manage. "You wrote a three paragraph essay on how if Car A was being driven by Iron Man and Car B was being driven by Batman there would be too many colossal factors to determine when and if at all Batman would ever catch up to Iron Man."

"I did mention that since the two superheroes are living in separate universes, that's another reason why there is no solid conclusion to make," Jungkook pointed out hopefully.

"Jungkook! You were supposed to solve the problem!" I burst out, earning a few 'hushes' from several students around us in the library.

"I did solve the problem," he hissed back. "The problem says to 'show work'. There! Those three whole ass paragraphs I painstakingly wrote? That's my work!"

I rubbed a hand over my face. "Give me your pencil," I sighed. "We've got some real work to do."

-Heroes and Villains-

"Well of course he didn't recognize you. Honey, he was sent to the Curing. You know how that program works."

After the encounter with Jungkook I went straight to the school office, saying I was sick. My mom had picked me up and brought me home.

I did know how the program works. And yet.... "I just thought..." my throat swells up as I recall the look on Jungkook's face. The bewilderment that seized his features when I fled the classroom. Clueless that my heart had just shattered for the second time.

"You thought he would've recognized you even a tiny bit, yes. I understand." My mother sighs heavily, wrapping her arms around me comfortingly. We sit on my bed, her cradling me in her arms.

"We were together for three years Mom," my voice cracked. "And he just... forgot me." The words felt like knives slicing through my throat. 'Forget'.

My first kiss. My first boyfriend. My first "I love you". We dated for three years. We did everything together. And in one year he doesn't even know my name. In one year he's forgotten me. Forgotten everything.

The Curing had done its job. Kids driven half mad with hate, anger, and pain were dragged into the 'rehabilitation center'. Then, somehow or another, the Curing wiped their memories away in efforts to 'stabilize the brain chemicals'. All memories except for basic ones of family and possibly a few friends.

Any dark memories that may have been the trigger for the depression, gone just like that. The Returnees were fresh slates. Clean and free of the toxic thoughts that may've begun the 'infection' on them.

And that's why the Curing is wrong. They take what is not theirs to take. Even worse, they treat depression like it's a disease. But it's not. It doesn't matter to them, though. They think they're superheroes.

And really, what is the difference between a superhero and a villain? Both think they're right. Both will stop at nothing to achieve their goal, even if it means desolation for everything around them.

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