Don't Play With Dolls (BTS and VIXX)

Forty Four- Angels

| Friday March 4, 2016 |

I laid on my sofa with my head in Farouk's lap. It had been three days since I was told I might have Leukemia. I'm sure I didn't look very well. I continued to vomit and curl over in pain every hour almost. I had run out of tears to shed, but I was still crying inside.

I brought the almost empty bottle of Soju to my lips and gulped in another sip. The alcohol didn't help. It couldn't make me numb enough. It couldn't erase my thoughts enough. Yet I still hopelessly tried.

I didn't show up at the agency for the past few days and Jae has been messaging me frantically and showing up to see if I was here but I wouldn't answer the door. Nor would I answer anyone's texts. I contacted my bosses and told them I'd be working from home for a while and they agreed that it would be best after everything I'd been through with Jin.

I still didn't tell anyone about the Leukemia. And I decided I wasn't going to. It was unrealistic to let myself sit here and rot away to nothing. I was still living. I still had to live. Farouk wouldn't let me give up. And I couldn't handle seeing how disappointed he would be if I did give up. But I still left myself a few days to just lay in the dark and continue to be alone.

I hadn't talked much with him. He still continued to take care of me and feed me and what not. He watched me closely in the bath as well. I knew he was only looking out for me but suicide was definitely something he shouldn't expect from me. Maybe I was just seeing it the wrong way. Maybe he was just there so I didn't have to be alone.

I looked up at him.

"Hmm?" He gazed down at me with calm eyes.

I held the bottle up for him. "Want the rest?"

He shook his head. I let my arm fall back to dangling over the front of the sofa.

There was a knock at the door. "Prane? Come on, open up." It was Jae again.

This was the third time today and it was only 1:00 in the afternoon.

"Can you just come to the door? Can you tell me what's wrong? Talk to me. Are you even still alive in there?" he called.

I remained silent. I didn't want anyone to look at me. I didn't want to speak to anyone. I didn't want them to see me like this.

"Are you okay? If this is about Jin, we can talk. Just let me in. I'm here for you, Prane. You're not alone. Just let me be here for you."

Hearing how desperate he was hurt. I knew he cared, but I didn't want him to. I didn't want him to worry about me. To hurt over me. I didn't want him to grieve with me.

I heard him sigh. "Please come to the door. I know you're there. You know I can tell you're there. Jin wouldn't want you to give up. He'd be here doing the same thing."

I didn't care if he knew I was here. I couldn't bring myself to open the door. I couldn't face him. It'd only bring me to tears again. And if Jin were here, half of my grief would be gone. No. Two thirds of my grief.

"Well I guess I'll try again later," he spoke. "Just know that next time, if you don't open this door, I'm forcing my way in."

And then he was gone. I let out a deep breath. I know he meant it, but I didn't want him to. If only everyone could forget me for a while.

I reached for the remote of the TV and clicked through a few channels when someone on the news caught my attention. The reporter woman spoke to the man in Korean. He looked awfully familiar. But from where? How had I seen him? Where?

And then I sat up slowly as I realized. Lee Gyong-Si.

He was alive. And behind him stood another victim. And several others. I turned the English subs on and read them as the two spoke.

"This group of individuals behind me were victims of the infamous crimes that had taken place around the city for the past six months. Each of these men and women behind me were declared dead when they were found by police and medical personnel. But miraculously, as you can see, they're all alive and well, and they have an unforgettable story to tell," the woman explained.

"Hello. My name is Lee Gyong-Si. I am one of the many patients as you can see here."

"Did you say patients? Why patients?" the reporter asked curiously. "Not survivors? Or victims?"

He smiled. "Because we were not victims. We were patients. Lost children standing in the headlights of death as he would say."

That's how Jin explained them? He's smiling. Like he was in paradise from the moment Jin took him.

"What does that mean?" The reporter looked just as perplexed as the others gathering around on the streets.

"They saved us all. They healed us. Each and every one of us. We're not sick anymore," he smiled cheerfully.

"They? Who is they?"

"The Angels."

"Angels?" She looked at him as if he were crazy.

"Yes. The thirteen of them. They saved us. We were healed by thirteen Angels."

"And where are these 'Angels' now?"

"They're gone." His voice almost sounded sad.

"Gone? Well, that's a shame. From murderers to heroic saviors. You have your proof, each and every victim stands here with me tonight, alive and well, and claiming they were healed by angels. Wherever they are, they'll be receiving a lot of praise from these families and friends who are excited to welcome home their loved ones and also from the doctors who will be trying to unravel this baffling mystery. I'm Hana Suki, have a goodnight everyone."

I sat there in silence. Staring at the TV. Angels. The precious saviors who'd protected these people with their lives. I didn't understand it.

He said he was protecting them. He said they were safe. As if they'd be hidden forever. So why now were they free? Was it because he was dead? Or had he planned to set them free all along? All of the members were not dead. I know that. They'd disappeared with the survivors. So why had they let them go? Was Jin's death for nothing?

Had my angel died a meaningless death? Why? Why did he want his end to come about that way? Why did I let him go? Why didn't I fight for him?

Why didn't I save him?