Hae-Rin sat on the green grass with wildflowers surrounding her; knife in hand and head resting on her curled up knees.
Playing with her knife lazily, Hae-Rin's movements were slow and unhurried as she twirled it between her fingers. Each movement was a mirror of a practised precision, almost as if she had always been able to wield a knife. Each rotation was deliberate yet relaxed, fingers twisting and curling with each trick that she had learned once she had realised that boredom was becoming one of her many sworn enemies.
Hae-Rin watched the knife glint under the sunlight and watched it form shapes of brightness on the nearest objects. Her hand felt the warmth of the sun, felt the gentle caress whereas her whole body hid under shadows, coldness enveloping her and soothing her insides.
Despite the warmness she had sought when winter was lurking, she was sitting under a thick shadow right now.
Hidding, disappearing.
Hidding from the sun, disappearing from the plane of existence.
Another trick passed between her fingers, and the edge of the blade caught the tip of her pinkie, cutting a small and shallow cut. Hae-Rin, instead of doing anything about it, just watched the two single drops of blood as they tickled her skin and dropped on the ground, both painting the cement in red.
Barely reacting to the small accident except the three curses that passed by her head when it happened, Hae-Rin continued dissociating.
The sun had created quite the shapes on the cement below her hand and knife.
With the tip of the blade, Hae-Rin dug slightly on the cement, following the lines of the shapes, carving shallow lines with each flick of her knife.
Lost in the rhythm of her movements, Hae-Rin's thoughts, loud as ever, continued to torment her mind. Each thought harsh, each thought an insult to her heart. And with each thought and conversation inside her head, the intention of her carvings on the cement grew more aggressive. Each stroke of the blade against the cement felt like a cathartic release, a silent conversation with the shapes cast by the sun's golden rays. Each stroke an angry and betrayed animal, each stroke a reflection of her own soul.
