#gotsomething.

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There’d been whispers coming out of her lips as if she’d been chanting a prayer to herself. She had been, sitting there, with her rear not touching the ground for the ground was cold, icy with snow that kept falling. Snow that settled atop of her head and in the strands of her hair as if to mesh through and conquer her scalp entirely so. It sat white and her lips dry from the cold moved along with his voice against her ear. Against her cheek and warm against her neck. Fingers that danced on her skin, ghost of a touch that only she could see or hear so that sometimes the constant string of, What do I do, where do I put it? What do I do? Where do I put it? Was broken only by her eerie little giggling sound. Because he was amusing her while she was thinking of how to dispose of the tenth bodies.

She kept them all inside of a freezer, deep below in the building where most of them ended up giving out their last breath. So that she could dispose of them as she wished, some of them lasted longer because their bodies had sustained less bleeding wounds before it was thrown in the freezer. Some other perished before the due date she had planned to put them out for the world to witness the beauty of a body that was well kept, white as porcelain, a taint that no living humans would veer achieve. But that with her hands, with his guidance she could put upon the ones that had no breath, no heartbeat. Imagine how the world would be if it stilled, silent for a moment with nothing but just the sight of bodies that were paused in their brief moments, in whatever it was the were doing. That was the beauty they were creating. Masterpieces, even better, we’re building an entire new genre of beauty. 

Another giggle, soft, buried against her scarf but once her mouth was freed again came the chanting. Until a breeze swept by, her fists tightened in her pockets and she froze gaze straight ahead. It seemed she’d voiced it too loud, it seemed her rambling had been caught and it seemed someone was interested in what she’d been going on and on without any break, without any solution to it until the voice spoke, “Burn it. Dump it in the lake. Soak it in the fuel.” 

& she froze. Not wanting to look up, so as to not let it be seen that the interruption was not welcome, even if it wasn’t unwelcome as well, it was just stilling her world. The way he’d said and she released her breath, feeling the presence now that she’d stopped chanting the words that had been on the tip of her tongue from the moment she stepped out of her place. The thought heavy on her mind, like a fog that would not dissipate until she finally found the way to exit out of it. 

Days had passed and it was only now that she was accepting it, wanting to try and clear her confusion away. Because days had passed, days of avoidance of not wanting to meet the other woman so that as she sat there with the newly bought journal, with just a few pages used for a good purpose. A purpose that filled her with an odd sense of shame at having felt those emotions but pride at having put them aside successfully. 

But then she was adding onto it, right onto the next page. Words she did not want to sleep with, words she’d not wanted to think about for days. But she could at least scribble down with the thought of the woman she wanted to let them out to. 

What are you doing right now? Now that you know that I’m not all that I seemed to be. They’re not demons, what I have, they’re not demons and I always try to make people believe they are because people want me to think that they’re demons, but they’re not. They’re the closest things to heaven that I’ve ever had. They say happiness is in accepting everything that comes to you as a blessing, so I accepted all of it as a blessing but my blessing was one that everyone else condemned as a curse.

A curse or a blessing, I may never know if I ask them but you looked like you were just sad that you’d be lied about who I was. Who I am. I am both. I am Haeri, I’m the little girl who smiles and curses and is a bit too loud, speaks too much and the one that crawled under her shadow when she had to talk about who she’d been keeping locked in her heart. Both the good and bad, because without the bad I would not be me. I do not seek forgiveness, because I did no wrong. I just hid, did no wrong, because to me you were still the good. I wanted to keep the good with the good and leave the bad, to the bad, was it so wrong of me of wanting to do so?

That you’re mad because I hid rather than because I cannot come without the wrong side of me, it makes me happy. In a certain way, I feel as if I at least do not repulse you. It’s strange. Then I think why is it so, but then I realize that I may not want to know the answer. Because it might mean that I kept you good, yet there you were, looking as if the bad was the good. I let him write this letter to you because I could not think of a word except that, he whispered the words to me while the only thing i could think was, I miss you. I should stop hiding, because you did not despise what I told you. Yet, I miss you and I hide because you did not reject what I let out.

Because that’s scary in itself. No one but him ever accepted it.

There’s a little protective side of me that wants him to be the only one. Because you cannot stoop to his level, because you’re above his level, you’ve always been but with the right, the good. If the balance switches, then what am I to do? Do I forget the good, do I let it go, do I let the illusion of it just deteriorates and replace it with the bad or do I put them together? I don’t know what to do.

I wish I could talk, but I don’t want to talk. So that I’m here, writing this, as if addressed to you, instead of facing you. This little shadow of a shelter shall keep me the way I am, insanely happy. For a little while, until I swallow the pill and kill him once again.

I need to find the balance. 

She shut the journal, pencil lodged between the last pages that wore the print of her writing and fumbled for the bottle sitting at her desk. How long before she gave it all up? She shouldn’t think of that, Haeri shook her head, quickly downing away her dose, she wouldn’t give up.

Haeri looked up from the couch at the man sitting in front of her, scowling and wanting to actually flee. Well that was awhile ago, when he told her he wanted her to write a letter to someone she’d let go of last year. The thing was, she was scowling and wanted to flee because she felt no aversion whatsoever at giving him that part of herself. That was scary, she felt light as her fingers began scribbling down on the piece of paper he’d handed her earlier. Fine, she’d do this, she could now, she might as well bask in the feeling and be done with it. 

You don’t quite exist anymore, so I guess it’s sort of a crush that’s walked over me then faded away isn’t it?  But it would have been better if it’d just stayed there, I tell myself that sometimes. But then I realize, that’s a lie, I wouldn’t have wanted that. I liked it when it was still there, barely a crush, loved it when it turned to worse but if I have to now make sure to let it go, I will let it go thinking I’ve done what I had to do. Can’t hold onto things that just end up splattering you all over the place. I’ve been over this already, but I have been told I needed one last closure, like some sort of public closure. You know because therapist kind of really loves picking at my brain and said to write it down and give it to him to analyse so yeah, he’s going to analyse this. I think me being able to let someone else into that corner of my life, it must mean that the page is turning.

That makes me happy.

So dear person I had a crush on, thank you for showing me I was capable of getting a heartbreak, of loving, of hating, of getting angry and not being able to control one thing, thank you for making me grow. 

Sincerely,Ri.

She folded it, neatly so before sliding at the end of the couch and handing it to him when he reached out his hand. Feeling like she’d just sewed another piece back to its place. Let him handle that, let him be proud that she’d done this. It was a rare thing for her to want to impress her therapist, but for this, she was sure that she felt giddy knowing what he would say.

status: sentto: whitneyfrom: [email protected]: this was supposed to be a lovely nice letter but y’know.

I love you.

You’re like really pretty, I would kiss you but I bet your hubby wouldn’t like that man. Not that I swing that team, but do you have to swing any team to kiss girls? This is so not fair. GIRLS SHOULD BE ABLE TO BE KISSED EVERYDAY. Long as it’s not by some random perverts, I ain’t no pervert. What am I writing, oh yeah, true, a letter to you. Why do you even need this, letters are meant for people who live far away. I guess you being busy and me sort of being busy right now too and you disappearing and you being an idol so away all the time makes you far away but YOU LIVE IN SEOUL SO DO I, YOU DON’T NEED THIS. And yes I’m writing this in an email and sending it to you via e-mail because let’s face it, technology has replaced old letters, who writes letters with their own fingers lately, nobody that’s who. SO YOU SEE LIKE, I dunno what I was about to type I lost it, Haerim walked in and I lost it, blame him. But yeah, okay letter, you’re really pretty and you sing so well and dance so well, teach me please. Except no, dancing is a chore, I don’t like it, and I can’t sing to save my life.

BUT CAN YOU LET ME RECORD YOU AND SHOW PEOPLE I AM FRIEND WITH SECRET’S HYOSEONG. Or nah.  I mean it’s a big thing you know. You’re an idol, I’m a future technology/gaming prodigy. This is why I don’t do letters, I am writing a novel. I should be a novelist, ay, that’d be fun right? I AM GONNA END THIS BEFORE IT GETS OUT OF HAND. million kisses, never replace your bodyguard she can get murderous, kisses for the boys even if they still sorta scare me a little. But they’re good in pictures, and thousand miles away from me. With no food around them and my phone far away from their little fingers and mouths.