The Missing Piece

Chapter 28

**** TRIGGER WARNINGS****

Heavy themes, Hanahaki, Suicidal Thoughts, blood

Looking back on everything that had happened since the night she'd turned twenty-one, Narae could see that she was just like the frog who slowly boiled to death in heated water. There were so many moments when she could have changed the outcome of the present day, saving herself, and possibly helping some of her soulmates along the way.

She was gifted moments of clarity every now and again, but largely, overcoating her mind like the fog of dry ice was a lethargy and absolute desire to shrink away that she couldn't do anything about. She'd read about depression, although she'd never experienced it herself. Was this what it was like? A constant dark cloud for her only companion. Eating and cleaning and showering becoming chores that seemed too much like hard work to bother completing. The idea of happiness was so totally out of reach for her, that she could never get it back.

The only energy that she had she devoted to thinking about how the next few weeks? Days? Would play out for her. She'd read more on the closing stages of Hanahaki and she knew that if she didn't quickly and drastically divert the course of her life, she would suffer major bleeds from which there would be no recovery. She'd already experienced a little preview.

Once she'd fled the HYBE building, just less than a week ago, she'd only had seconds to fling herself into an alleyway around the back of the opulent frontages where all the rubbish was stored. She found a safe place behind a stinking bin and began to wretch and choke. She couldn't stay standing. She crashed to her knees and then all fours and finally found herself almost laying, prone in the filthy street, added to by a little pool of her own blood. Less and less of the dried coagulated petals, now just more fresh vivid fluid from new wounds deep inside her body.

Thinking she had a little time, Narae had made to get up and go, but found she was too weak for the moment. She stayed there maybe half an hour before she booked a cab to collect her just fifteen yards away. It took her everything she had just to make it inside the car's refuge. The driver thought she was drunk and got her home with a number of judgemental looks in the mirror. Narae practically crawled from there to her own front door of her little studio flat, where she found her long neglected key in a forgotten pocket of her bag, and dragged herself in.

The absolute fatigue and pain that had overcome her in the afternoon had left overnight and by morning, she was a little revived, but badly shaken by the whole incident.

Looking at her phone for the first time since she'd fallen asleep, she found a deluge of messages. Some from company management who wanted to know if she was sure of her decision to resign, then to let her know that they thought it might be for the best, then to give her details of her severance cheques and so on. It seemed Jisook wasn't going to press charges. Wonder what Namjoon had to do to secure that bargain, Narae though darkly.

There were more messages from her family. Narae had fobbed them off long ago with a story about securing a job directly on the talent's team, and being so incredibly busy that she'd would often miss their calls or attempts to get in contact.

Months ago, the idea alone of her family and how they would react if they knew her circumstances, would have been enough to stop Narae in her tracks and change her ways. Now they just became another disappointing thought. They seemed content enough for her to slip away from them. What did it matter if she slipped a little further? As usual, she sent them all a raft of messages, bright, cheery and apologetic for being out of reach. She typed richly furnished stories of the wonderful things she was getting to do and experience, including photos that either weren't hers or that she'd taken last year. No part of this deception seemed strange to her; it was just what needed to be done so no one asked any questions she couldn't answer.