As I slowly opened my eyes, the torrential rain outside transformed into a symphony of droplets, its melodic rhythm echoing the turmoil within me. The memories of the forsaken realm still lingered, a haunting reminder that I hadn't returned alone – the shadows of that desolate world clung to me like a dark shroud.
"Anyaaa... You've got a parcel," my sister's voice pierced the haze, her knock on the door a gentle intrusion. My mind still trapped in the echoes of the other world, I murmured a delayed response, "Ohh, ok..."
As my sister handed me the parcel, she mentioned, "I'm heading to my friend's house." Her voice was a distant hum, my thoughts consumed by the memories of the forsaken realm. "Don't be late," I absently replied, my fingers tracing the parcel's edges.
The moment she left, my anxiety spiked. Sangwon... had he made it back? My fingers flew across the screen as I opened Instagram, my heart racing with every passing second. The feed loaded, and my eyes scanned frantically for any sign of him. No posts, no stories... but then, a photo popped up – one of his group members smiling, Sangwon's face partially hidden behind. The caption indicated it was posted just a few minutes ago. My breath caught in relief as I realized he was safe.
The knot in my chest loosened, but the shadows within me still stirred, reminding me that some wounds would take longer to heal.
As I gazed at Sangwon's picture, my heart swirled with emotions, like a tempest raging within me. 'You'll always be a shining star, and I'll be the one basking in your radiance,' I whispered, my voice a mere whisper. 'Be happy, my star, shine brighter.' The words spilled out like a heartfelt serenade. With a bittersweet smile, I tore my gaze away and rushed to find scissors to open the parcel that had been beckoning me like a siren's call. 'Oh, it's a skin care package!' I squealed, my excitement erupting like a burst of fireworks. Parcels were my weakness – the anticipation, the surprise, the joy of unwrapping something new was intoxicating! It was the same exhilaration I felt when I had the house to myself, and the world was mine to explore, lost in the endless vortex of the internet. Or when I was in my element, whipping up a storm in the kitchen, with the aroma of freshly baked treats wafting through the air, feeling like I was in my own little world. These fleeting moments were the essence of life, and in that instant, everything felt like a symphony of wonder.
But now, I no longer felt desire. Emotions swirled within me, but the absence of my greatest and dearest desire made me feel like my body was functioning without a heart – hollow and lifeless. I still loved Sangwon, but the passion was gone. [Phone ringing]. "Who's calling? I was about to watch my drama," I said, raising an eyebrow as I glanced at my phone. "Hey, Anya! I sent you a pic of a dress – take a look and tell me if it'll look good on me," Yoonah chimed in over the call. "The pink one is stunning – it'll complement you perfectly," I replied, scrolling through the pictures. "Thanks, bye for now! We'll catch up later, and don't forget to call me, okay?" Yoonah said. "Okay, bye," I replied, ending the call. With a sigh, I settled back into my drama-watching mode, thinking, "It was a bittersweet experience in that magical world, but now I'm back to my original world.
As I succumbed to the drama's dark allure, the shadows of my past crept in, casting a morbid spell over my fragile mind. Fear's icy fingers wrapped around my heart, squeezing tight as I trembled at the thought of being trapped in that hellish world once more. The lines between reality and madness blurred, and I felt myself drowning in a sea of despair. My head spun, and I collapsed onto my bed, the laptop slipping from my grasp as the memories of that forsaken world swirled around me like a maelstrom.
The earlier thrill had long since dissipated, replaced by a crushing sense of sadness and fear that threatened to consume me whole. And then, like a cruel twist of fate, my phone buzzed with a notification, shattering the silence like a shattered mirror. I hesitated, my heart heavy with foreboding, as I gazed at the screen. My fiancé's message stared back at me, a harsh reminder of the life I was desperate to escape. Regret and uncertainty washed over me like a tidal wave, leaving me feeling lost and helpless.
"In that moment, I realized that emotions are like mysterious, unmarked boxes – you never know what lies within until you open them. One moment, you're basking in the warmth of happiness; the next, you're shattered by the weight of sorrow. The uncertainty is a constant companion, a shadow that follows me everywhere, reminding me that the next moment could bring anything."
I banished the message with a swipe of my finger, and a torrent of tears erupted, my sobs wrenching and inarticulate. I felt like a lost child, overwhelmed by emotions I couldn't verbalize.
As I emerged from my room, I attempted to find solace in cooking noodles. However, the memories of that nightmarish world lingered, casting a long shadow over my present. My hand trembled as I raised the fork to my lips, betraying my fragile composure.
"You're safe, Anya. You're in control," I whispered to myself, trying to quell the rising panic. This mantra, once unnecessary, had become my lifeline. For the first time, the solitude of my home felt oppressive, with only the echoes of my fears punctuating the silence.
Tears continued to fall as I ate, and I repeated the reassurance to myself like a prayer.
The phone rang, displaying my fiancé's number on the screen. "Why are you calling now?" I muttered, my voice laced with resentment. "I don't want to talk to you. I don't like you." My gaze lingered on the screen as I added, "Marriage? It's all the same to me now. Who I marry doesn't matter."
The pain still lingered, but I'd grown numb to it. I pushed the thoughts aside and focused on cooking dinner for my sister and father, who were due home soon.
As I worked in the kitchen, my sister walked in and peeked into the pot. "Mmm, your signature chicken recipe – it looks amazing! Don't forget to add the cream," she said, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.
I served dinner, and as I handed her a plate, I asked, "What did you eat at your friend's house?"
My sister's smile was radiant. "Sandwiches, pasta, and marinated chicken. Why do you ask? You wanted to come, didn't you?"
My father joined the conversation, "Anya, I picked up the cake ingredients you asked for. They're in the kitchen."
"Which cake ingredients?" I murmured, my mind a blank. "Hmm, I don't remember."
My sister's voice was laced with amusement. "You don't remember? You were so enamored with that vanilla cake recipe. It was going to be your masterpiece."
A faint glimmer of recollection flickered within me, but it was quickly extinguished. "Oh, right. I remember now. I'll try baking it sometime." My tone was listless, lacking the enthusiasm my sister had expected.
She studied me for a moment before nodding. "I'm going to study. Don't disturb me." With that, she retreated to her room, leaving me to my thoughts.
I sank onto my bed, phone in hand, and began scrolling through Instagram. Sangwon's face stared back at me, his eyes piercing my numbness. "Sangwon," I whispered, the sound barely audible. But the memories that came flooding back were bittersweet – reminders of the world that had drained me of joy, leaving me a hollow shell of what I once was. It all felt like a distant dream now, one that I couldn't bear to revisit. The pain had receded, replaced by a dull ache that refused to subside.