Chapter Text
“Mira!” Zoey cried cheerfully, running up to Mira who was sitting at the couch, “You wanna come to the bathhouse with me and Rumi?” The bathhouse. She had always enjoyed the bathhouse.
“Not today, Zoey.” Mira replied in a halfhearted tone, “I don’t feel good today. You go with just Rumi. I’ll come with you guys next time.”
Zoey’s expression faltered a little, disappointed that Mira won’t tag along with time. She kept her smile up and nodded. “Oh, yeah, totally! I get that. We’ll see you later!” She waved goodbye as she ran out the door of their penthouse to meet Rumi outside, leaving Mira alone.
Alone. Finally. She leaned back on the couch. Her mind slowly began to flood with thoughts. Unwanted thoughts. Thoughts of temptation she hasn’t felt in years. She didn’t want these back. Why? Why is it that, once she’s finally alone, she gets these thought? It’s been years. She dragged her gaze down to her legs as she pulled her left tight pant leg up to her hip, revealing faint scars on her upper thigh. Four faint scars. She traced her fingers lightly over her self inflicted cuts, as if they were some ancient artifact that would break at the smallest amount of pressure. She held onto this memory closely, almost dearly. Her pre-debut days were ones she’d want to forget. But her scars will always be a dreadful reminder of her self destructive past. The past she was tempted to return to. No.
“You can’t go back.” She silently scolded herself, “It’s done. It’s been years. You can hold on… for a few more weeks.” It wasn’t just the scars that plagued her memories, it was her patterns too. Patterns she was ashamed of. The marks that clawed up her skin were the constant reminder of how the demon king, Gwi-Ma, was able to control her all those years ago. It sickened her. At last, she pulled her pant leg back down, covering the scars and covering the patterns that poisoned her skin. She stood up, heading to the bathroom. It’s still early. Only eleven AM. Once inside, she grabbed a pill bottle from the bathroom shelf. She stared down silently at the bottle as she gripped it in her hand. It was some kind of medication Rumi got for her once Rumi noticed changes in Mira’s behavior. Mira frankly didn’t know what it was. Was it antidepressants? Or bipolar medication? She couldn’t remember for the life of her. Either way, she reluctantly opened the bottle and took her daily dose. Two pills. She closed the bottle and placed it back up on the shelf. Silence flooded the room. It was deafening. She stared at herself in the mirror. Disgusting.
“Look at you.” She started sternly, “Look at how dependent you’ve become. I can’t believe it.” She fell silent. She gazed into her eyes in the mirror as she felt something bubbling inside her. Frustration. Why? She couldn’t help but feel the growing frustration in her chest as she continued to stare at herself in the mirror. Finally, she had enough. She stormed out of the bathroom and to her room, slamming and locking the door behind her. She flopped down on her bed, lying on her side away from the door. She wrapped her arms around herself as frustration melted into shame. She dug her nails into her arms, though not hard enough to break through her skin. Her mind flooded with thoughts once again. She couldn’t handle it. She was shameful of what she was. She was shameful of what she had become. This was all her fault. She was never enough. She never deserved anything. She didn’t deserve to be here now. God damn it. She needed a distraction. She flipped onto her back and she grabbed her phone from the nightstand. She texted Zoey.
Mira (11:56 AM): You guys make it to the bathhouse?
Zoey (11:56 AM): Almost there! Why? Is everything okay?
Mira (11:59 AM): Yeah. Just checking in
Zoey (11:59 AM): Oh okay! We’ll see you later! <3
Mira didn’t respond to the last message. She put her phone back down on the nightstand and stared up at the ceiling. Silence fell over her once again. Isn’t the silence supposed to be peaceful? Why does it hurt? The thoughts of temptation crashed right back at her. She was getting fed up. She needed a distraction, yet nothing would distract her from the constant temptations that shot at her brain like bullets. Nothing would satisfy her. She felt sick. She didn’t know why. For once in years, she felt lonely. Was she missing her group mates? No. She couldn’t. Was it the fact she bared a weight as heavy as the Earth on her chest even though her friend whom was in the same situation had already lifted off her own weight? Why couldn’t she go to Rumi?
She understood Rumi’s reason to hide. She always will. Yet she could never bring herself to show her own self. Rumi stride in confidence with her patterns, why couldn’t Mira do the same? What was this shame she was feeling? Did it stem from the fact she threw away her life at such a young age to be something she could never be? Why couldn’t she be better? Guilt washed over her, hitting her hard like a tsunami. She felt helpless as she stared up at the ceiling, the thoughts of temptation continuing to torment her. She felt surrounded. She could do it. She should do it. But why scare the others? Why leave them an unpleasant surprise on the ground after their morning out? What if they don’t come home in time? What if Bobby never visits? This could actually work. For once. No. Hold on. For just one more week.
“It’s been years.” She silently lectured herself, “you can hold on one more week.” She paused. A conscious realization hit her like a truck.
“Gwi-Ma is gone.” She quietly started, “He should be gone. But, why do I still feel so… shameful? I let him do this to me.” She clenched her hands into tight fists, her nails digging into her skin.
“I let him do this to me.”
Her nails started to draw blood from her palms. Frustration. It filled her. Why? She was desperate. She was a naive child. And she hated herself for it. She hated how she was so easily controlled. She hated how she allowed herself to make a deal with the demon king just to not even get her wish. What was this all for? What does this mean in the end? Everlasting pain to everyone? Despair? What is it? She turned onto her side as her eyes welled up with tears. The blood trickled down her palms and onto her bed, creating a small crimson stain on her sheets. She didn’t care. She held in her cries of despair and agony. Why was she like this? Nothing but questions plagued her mind, tormenting her along with temptations. Even though they have defeated him, she still felt as though Gwi-Ma was emitting these temptations into her head. To make her join him once again. To go to the underworld where she belonged. To never see the light of day again.