paper cranes | uc.

( 09; protecting what you love )

' paper scent.'

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

[name] has concluded that what she dreams, is inescapable. what stares agape, is something horrid enough to traumatize her all over again. she understands that her happiness and smiles are but a veil and it chases her among her own emotions, unraveling the stitches that she had put up in her own heart, birthed by someone who had ruined her entire childhood.

that it had ruined her and the way she should have been acting.

when she watches ms. chu and mr. choi gets thrown against the statues like ragdolls by the man who seemed too psychopathic to have words affect him, she tries to stumble up to her feet and change the horrid future she saw, only to be held down against her will.

the unknown, tear-dripping force is making her turn away from the destruction, and dark and ominous eyes are into hers. corpses that decay amongst the banquet and bushes of roses poking behind from ivory ribs and beating hearts on the ends of sticks, [name] realizes that she had just walked into a garden of blood. 

she was always there.

and she was doing what she foresaw: standing around feeling helpless.

mr. hwang was going to kill her. she can feel the hiss of his arrogance graze her teeth, his growl, and his hand raising her body off her heels, before slamming against the glass artifact that fell down and broke apart just like she had been this entire time.

shards of glass graze against her bare skin and draw her blood, her rigid breathing stopping for just a second.

the second she would always get stuck in for hours, days, years.

[name] imagined what it would be like if she was in a fixed motion of existing that drove her to the veil of dreams that had wisps of utopia; a perfect life, a perfect mother who never left her and broke several promises, a perfect father who would never hit her with the bottles of soju he would always drink from.

a yes. a glass shard. a scar.

a no. a glass shard. a scar.

a scream. a glass shard. yet another scar.

a beg. a glass shard. her fourth scar.

existing is enduring more than the consequences of living for those who do not; it was never your choice to live, now, was it? to exist was just waiting for the inevitable. and for [name], that had always meant to be 'dying'.

but she fought against it.

she wanted to live.

she oh so desperately wanted to live.

in the end, it never worked out. look at where she was now: unable to move and save the people who treated her like her own daughter. when she somehow stumbles up to walk towards the crazy man, she pushes him with a painful scream, away from the one that was like her mother.

the situation honestly felt completely hopeless. she didn't know how to fight at all, and the grade one evil spirit was already shot dead just earlier.

"hey, didn't you say you wanted to play with this bitch?"

"yeah, leave her alone-"

"shut up."

would [name] be allowed to feel angry now? after getting shut down over and over and over and over again for every single act that she did against him, for every glass shard that laid a cut on her skin, for every bite of her nail that she did to snap herself away from illusions and panic attacks or whatnot...would she be allowed to fume up?