Burn Me | MYG ✓

CHAPTER 07

Those ridiculously recurrent nightmares are the consequence of the heinous sin she committed.

. . .

[Yin's POV]

Standing behind Jimin was Yoongi, twirling a cup of coffee in his hand, a rather unusual expression on his face. From Jimin, his eyes glided and settled on the frozen figure of Yin, staring at her as one would stare at a notice board.

In the twinkling of an eye, Jimin spun on his heels, his eyes turning as large as saucers when he acknowledged Yoongi's presence. "H-hyung?" The surprise in his voice was evident. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"I presume - " He began with his one hand shoved in the pocket of his jeans, the other that held the cup, reaching up to his lips as he took a slow draggy sip of the coffee before pursing his lips into a thin line. " - nobody has told you by now that I hate abusers."

Even though Jimin's back was facing Yin, she was undisputed that the boy must be blinking hard and rapidly. "Excuse me?" He questioned, feeling offended. "You're saying that I'm abusing my sister?"

"That's right." Yoongi nodded, taking another sip.

She gnawed her lips, looking fazed while Jimin darkly chuckled, peering at his sides, his hands resting on his waist and when he cast a glance up at the elder, a dead serious countenance conjured him. "Stay out of this hyung. This matter has nothing to do with you."

She swore for a second she saw Yoongi's jaw clenching as he fluttered his eyes closed for a moment as though he was endeavouring some agony. And then he walked around Jimin who stood stubbornly still and came to a halt right before Yin, gazing down at her.

Yin took in a shaky breath, pressing herself harder on the wall, wishing she could disappear in the air, away from his stare.

"Knock it off," Jimin barked at Yoongi, turning his head just enough so Yin could see his lips moving.

But Yoongi paid no heed to him, his eyes yet locked with Yin, nose-to-nose, an eerie feeling hidden in those dark orbs. Something in Yin's stomach coiled, heat rushing up to her neck.

"Next Saturday night, party at my house. Bring your sister too." He said.

What the hell is he on about?

"She can't come. She won't." Said Jimin, now turning around, his eyes looking at Yin over Yoongi's shoulder.

"You don't get to decide for her."

"She's my sister!"

"And she has her own life."

She sucked in a breath, galled by the conversation she was again unfortunately involved in. Why couldn't Yoongi leave her alone? For the first time in her life, she couldn't agree less with what Jimin had asserted although he harboured no intentions to help her. He was merely doing it because he didn't want her near him or his friends but her mind was brewing thoughts fixed on the coveted reason why Yoongi hoped her to escort the party.

Resolute with her conclusion, she was almost to reply that she wouldn't come when Yoongi's next words jabbed her, right at the place of one called, challenge.

Leaning in, just to whisper in her ear, he said, "Will you run away from me this time too?"

Twice. She had run off from him twice. Once in the class and second time, at the library and now she was challenged to run away again.

Despite carrying the pain from all the injuries Yin had endured, there was one good thing about it; it had bolstered her to gain more confidence in herself and at all times readied her for whatever challenge was to be propped up in front of her. She had lost everything but not her self-respect.

***

With the end of the tiring day, the night had fallen - dissolute and tranquil. The rustling and whispering sound of snow falling added a blissful feeling to the midnight serenity.

Through the open window that Yin had forgotten to shut before going to bed, blew in cold and chilly winds, fluttering the drapes in the air - rippling like an undulated wave. Thrashing, tossing and turning, Yin squirmed under her thick duvet. Her body broke into a cold sweat, diffusing from her forehead to the back of her neck.

"No! I did not do it!" She screamed, her eyebrows creasing in undeniable worry and fear.

"It's not my fault! No! It's not my fault!" She cried, tears now streaming down her eyes to her temples and disappeared into her dishevelled hair.

"Stop it! Stop!" Her body moved on the bed, tangling herself more around the mass of sheets.

Her chest began heaving up and down unrhymed to the drumming of her heart in her chest and she was jarred awake to find the blankets all heaped up upon her chest.

It was a nightmare - a physical nightmare if one might use such an expression; for some heavyweight on her chest made it difficult for her to breathe.

It had always been the same grisly nightmare, the same terrible past haunting her, eating and consuming her from within. Her eyes became teary again when she thought of it, the memories yet clear as water. Her lips quivered and she slumped her head in her hands in defeat, crying out.

When from her left, a flurry of wind blew torpidly, straightening the hairs on her body, her attention moved to the open window, cottoning on, she walked up to it and stood close up behind the moving drapes. Just when she was about to shut them, from the gaps between, she caught the sight of someone across her window, standing at the balcony with nothing but cladded in a thin grey t-shirt and sweatpants.

Yoongi.

Leaning onto the rails, his expression was calm, his face appeared paler than usual.

What is he doing on the balcony in the middle of the night?

Yin hadn't apprehended how long she had been staring at him until he caught her, gazing directly at her. She shivered, chills spreading down her entire body, and she shut the window without further ado.

Her hand instinctively glided in her jeans pocket, fisting around the lighter.

A desire.

Should she?

She pulled out the bright lighter, settled on the palm of her hand, taunting her. She fisted it; it felt so natural in her hand as though it was made for her. Just for her. With the number of lighters she had bought over the past years, it was indiscernible to reminisce whether the one she was currently using was her fifth or sixth one. Be that as it may, considering the little amount of liquid left, she thought she needed to buy another one sooner.

When she freed herself from her trousers, only in her knickers, she sat on her bed with the lighter. Adrenaline rushing inside her vein, like liquid heat, igniting her senses with anticipation of the pleasure. She loved the feeling. She loved it.

She flicked the lighter but the lack of liquid in the tiny thing caused it to take a little longer than usual for a flame to ignite.

She stared in awe at the bright yellow light in her darkroom. So enthralling. So bewitching. It locked her in a spell, numbing all the thoughts in her brain and all that amounted to something at that particular point was the lighter and the blistered leathery skin of her thigh which she was going to burn yet again.

The moment the flame met the rough old cauterized patch of skin, she gasped. It wasn't as painful as it used to be in the starting years when she began burning the skin of her body instead with time, she felt pleasure. A calming sensation that refreshed her as if she was born anew.

She was on a sort of high of enthrilling delectation about which she knew was only impossibly unexplainable.

---

A/n: Someone spoiled a good, a REALLY REALLY GOOD mystery book for me and my -- oh my, did I get this passionate urge to skin them alive! But I'm feeling so dead right now... 😑

Question: What do you think of Yin and the dreadful habit that she has?