Don't Play With Dolls (BTS and VIXX)

Forty Two- Sickness Lives Deep

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| Tuesday March 1, 2016 |

I hovered over my trash can vomiting continuously. My head pounded with a sickening drumbeat and my stomach contracted in pain.

It had been two weeks since I said goodbye to Jin. These were the two most miserable weeks of my life. I woke up the next morning after we'd arrived back in Seoul and Jae told me everything. None of the other team members had faced one of the boys. And Jae said that the others he'd taken on had 'escaped'. I knew he lied, but at this point I didn't care. We still never found any survivors. And when we got back, Hongbin and Ken had disappeared. When the team members went over the recordings, they had just turned to dust and were gone.

My mind was still on Jin this entire time and it made me sick.

Everything was gone. I didn't care about anything. My motivation was gone. My body was fighting with me too. Everything hurt. My heart, my head, my stomach, my whole being.

The first few days were nothing but shock and numbness. I was in denial. I didn't believe it. I didn't want to believe it. But then it finally sunk in and I did nothing but cry. I didn't cry at work. I tried my best not to think of him around others but it didn't work so well. And this was the product of holding everything back.

I acted like nothing had happened around the others, and they knew I wasn't completely okay, but they tried not to pry about it. Jae and his girlfriend had been there to comfort me and take care of me. But yet no matter how much company I seemed to have, I still felt alone. I was lost in a world of darkness now. And I didn't know how to drag myself out. I didn't know if I could drag myself out.

Farouk had also been there with me but he didn't say much. He just held me when I needed to be held and fed me when I needed to eat. He was good at keeping me motivated to at least do that. Without him, I'd probably be emaciated from starvation by now. It wasn't because I wanted to starve, it was just that my mind never thought of food or drinks. My body ached too much to feel the slightest grumble of hunger.

I killed him. I did it. No one else. Why didn't I just go after him on my own? Would things be completely different if I had? Would we still be trying to hunt him right now? Would he still be alive? I missed him. My body ached knowing I'd never see him again. My heart withered weakly at the thought of him. His absence. His death by my hand.

I rested my head back now onto my office chair as I panted for breath. I closed my eyes and saw what was always there. Darkness. Except now even when I opened my eyes that's what I saw too. Darkness or his image. I couldn't get that last sight of him out of my head. Him standing there in all white. Never taking his eyes from mine. Never once looking at me with anything but love.

I loved him. I'd grown to love him more now that it seemed he was gone. I wanted him. I needed him. And yet I'd killed him. I couldn't live with it. I couldn't take it.

My stomach clenched with a sharp pain once again and I doubled forward cringing. Was this stress? I couldn't even tell anymore. Could stress even get this severe?

I let out a small cry. Why was my body making things harder for me? Could I ever get a break from anyone? From anything?

I panted again as I felt another dry heave coming on. I'd already emptied the contents from my stomach about six rounds ago. Yet my body now rejected the air I breathed.