The Violinist (A BTS- Yoongi/Suga ff) ✓

Chapter 31: Life Like This

Time passed, 3 weeks.... I was sound asleep one night... maybe, dreaming? Awake? Astral projecting? I don't know but it was dark.

The darkness, like before... I remembered. In fact, I remembered all of it. IT showed it to me, this being... the one here in the darkness. I don't know why IT showed me, but IT did and I remembered. I saw the black violin, I saw my childhood home up in flames.

I saw my friends being tormented by a strange man, a hospital room, I saw my father... if that's what he's supposed to be called, I saw him standing over my mother like a gladiator standing over a lion whose heart he just cut out. Blood.... I saw blood. At first, I thought what IT showed me was a dream. But... I was a bad girl to clear that up.

Yoongi, Auntie Su, Addie, Steph, even Namjoon... they hid it from me, they lied to me. But I guess I lied too, I lied when they asked if I was alright a few weeks ago, after the dinner... after that incredible night with Yoongi. He played me like the shadow creature plays its violin... yes. I was the violin, Yoongi the violinist. It was good, but the truth was shown to me after. He didn't know I cried, I woke up in the middle of the night and silently went into our bathroom, I cried.... I missed my mother, I wanted my mother... so, I went to the kitchen, took a pear knife and gently cut my finger. She did it so many times, but always her wrists, or arms. 

I was new to it, I just wanted to see her. Just a prick really, and red beaded on my fingertip. I closed my eyes and opened them, hoping to see her but I didn't. I tried one last time a few nights after that, I woke again, cried in the bathroom, then went to the kitchen. This time I dragged the knife gently on the back of my hand, just a little cut. I didn't go to deep, it stung to badly for that. I cursed at myself, how could mother do this without seeming to feel any pain. Maybe she was numb to it? I wasn't. I was filled with many feelings. I was feeling betrayed by my loved ones, I was hurt by my own stupidity for cutting myself, I was in love with a man who was lying to me... even though the intention was good.

Like I said, I lied too. I was lying more often though, pretending to be fine, playing ignorant. Like I mentioned, I was a bad girl. See, Yoongi had my phone, he bought me another one soon after we came back to Korea, he claimed he must have lost it at the airport or somewhere because he couldn't find it. He lied. I found it, it was in his suitcase. It was tucked into a pocket in the inside of his suitcase. I charged it, without him knowing, he had gone to work so I had time. I unlocked it and looked through. Sure enough, everything I was told or shown in these... dreams, was real. I cried again.

 Not because I was in shock of what I was seeing and reading, no I cried because I knew they were right to hide it and I also cried because I knew I was strong enough to handle it, and not break like they thought. They thought I was weak... this was how they saw me? I was crazy, I had to be. I had thought about it, all of it. Which is why I was now laying in the giant tub in our bathroom. Yoongi was at work, I was awaiting that phone call. The phone call that would tell me if I'm good enough of a violinist to play for an orchestra. The Seoul Orchestral unit. It was a stepping stone, one I'd take because I loved to play.

I thought about things, how would I tell them that their lies hurt me? Should I tell them? Should I tell them I lied? Should I tell them what I've been wondering, if I was really as crazy as my parents? Should I admit these fears? One simple fact was that they had not found him, that man who helped in my creation. Another lie I told, Addie had been in contact with the police back in Boston, as had Aunt Su. I had overheard them before, twice in fact. Both times they were in a bit of a panic. Which is understandable, they don't know if he'll try to come here. I however wasn't as worried. Let him come.

If he comes here, he'll have a hard time getting around, he doesn't speak the language nor can he understand it, so why should I be worried. I'd have the upper hand, I'd get the first strike...