The Power Within || BTS

TWENTY THREE

♦ Like It's A Bad Thing ♦

My eyes snapped open when I heard a voice calling out to me. As soon as I woke my mind up, a sharp pain struck my head. I groaned and massaged my temples while trying to sit up, my eyes struggling to adjust to the white of the room I was inside.

"Ugh, Jay, where are you?" I yelled, having a strong feeling of being back in the one place I can see Jay.

It was unusually quiet after I spoke, which made me wonder why she didn't reply. When the headache felt slightly weaker, I opened my eyes slowly, still struggling to adjust to the bright light.

The first thing I saw was a purple coloured hand in front of my face. I looked up to see Jay silently telling me to stand up. The fact that she just appeared out of nowhere made me jump a little.

"Don't yell 'surrender or die' to me again, Thanda," Jay said in a bored tone. "You already know that it doesn't make me fear you."

I pouted and stood up by myself, ignoring the helping hand she offered me because of what she said. As much as we may be discussing something serious, I can be very childish when I want to be.

"Why am I back here, Jay?" I demanded once I was balanced. "Do we really have to be discussing something life changing every time I pass out?"

"I guess you wish to not speak with your step father, then, she said with a shrug, shifting in her place.

I froze.

Jay smiled sadly as she explained. "Mr. Sánchez has a message for you - a very important one, might I add. He didn't want to distract you too much from your mission, so he asked me to deliver it to you as soon as you're free."

"How am I free when I just got stabbed in the throat?" I questioned, my mind still processing everything after she mentioned my dad. "Shouldn't I be on the brink of dying right now?"

Jay shook her head with a small smile on her face. "No one in your team would allow that. Plus, if I can keep your mind active for long enough, it helps with keeping your body stable."

Jay held her hand out and flicked her wrist. A mist surrounded her palm and floated around where we were standing and the white was slowly being painted into a different scene.

The first thing I noticed was my dad in the café he usually visited before and after work. There was a small cup of coffee on the white table, his grip around it tightly.

I gasped when I glanced at his face. He looked so . . . worn out, so tired. I've never seen him like this, not even on our darkest days.

"Thanda, honey," he started, his voice frail and weak. "As much as I want to know for sure if you're okay, I don't have much time to ask. There is something that I've been hiding from you, and I must tell you before the war commences."

I walked closer to the figure. "Daddy, what- I don't understand. What do you mean?"

He smiled at me, as if he knew exactly what I was saying. "You've never been the patient one, have you? You're just like your mother."

My heart sobbed at the mention of her, but my face remained unchanged. It still amazes me how much emotion I can hide from most people on most days. Don't let them see your tears, I would always tell myself in the past. I guess I developed a habit that didn't even require me to think about it.