Chapter 1
Chapter 1:
???’s POV (point of view):
I was long taunted by monstrous rhododendrons. All of us knew we had no chance at freedom. Even the ones who made it out of the event went into shock, not being able to process the trauma of defeat. And with the person I loved dearly, I promised him that I would be the one to empty his sadness and be with him forever and ever. That promise was broken by me. I take blame for every detail in that situation where none were alive.
Well just barely.
The event is dubbed a ‘mystery’ in the papers and on the staticky news of the televisions the people watch. The people talk but never listen.
I wake up in a hospital bed, feeling dizzy.
My mouth is so dry and I can barely keep my eyes open. I slowly raise up, looking around the room.
It’s nighttime, and the only light in my assigned room is the lamp on the hospital bedside table.
Also on the hospital bedside table sat faded flowers in a simple clear glass vase.
“I do not need anyone's sympathy. I just want to escape these memories.”
I have a difficult time getting to my feet,
feeling how cold the dirty tiled hospital floor is on my bare feet.
I grab the stupid and ugly flowers, looking at the handwritten note on the side of the vase.
The note reads:
‘God’
“These are from ‘God’?”
I ask out loud
“Is this a prank?”
I let out a heavy loud sigh, throwing away the flowers and vase in the mini trash can that leans against the wall. But before I throw it away, I notice that dirty syringe needles from shots are in the bottom of the mini trash can.
Did they give me shots? I can’t remember anything the doctors have done to me.
I can hear on the other side of the door.
In the waiting room, there are three people sitting in lined up chairs in the dark.
“What happened to them?”
“I’m not sure, but it looks bad.”
“‘Bad’ is an understatement!”
I hear them talk loudly about it as they look closely at the newspaper. The incident just happened a few days ago, so of course it’s still brought up.
It is basically going to be the highlight of the news at this point.
“I killed them…”
My voice breaks as I whisper.
“I killed all of them…”
A few days later the doctors say that I have to go to therapy. So here I am, sitting alone with a stranger who wants to know my thoughts and feelings.
“Tell me about yourself”
The therapist prepares to take notes in his notepad.
I shift in my seat nervously
“I don’t think you want to know…”
“But I do”
“All you’ll do is report what you know back to the doctors so they can use something against me”
“Whatever you tell me stays between you and I”
I pause for a few seconds then clear my throat
“…I have no choice anyways…fine…I’ll introduce myself…”
“Good thinking” The therapist tells me as if this is some fun little game
“My name is Lo. Originally I am from North Korea, however, the country got overwhelming and toxic for my taste. So I moved to America.”
“You have a girl's name?”
“So what?”
“It’s just a little weird. How old are you?”
The therapist asks
I nervously run my fingers through my black hair as I say
“I am 21 years old. I just had a birthday before the ‘thing’ happened”
“Your English is quite impressive. When did you learn?”
“I’m self taught”
“Fascinating”
“If you say so”
I tie my hair up into a small ponytail
“I’m not here to make friends with you. I just want to get this over with and eventually go home.”
“Well the doctors say that you won’t be released until next month”
“Is that so?”
“Yes”
“How long have I been here?”
I ask the therapist
The therapist then pulls out records from her desk “There”
She hands me the records.
“Ahh so you do know me after all”
I smirk and chuckle
“Why did you make conversation with me if you already know me?”
I skip through the records.
These people really don’t know, do they?
I look at the date.
I’ve been in this hospital for 2 months, but cannot remember a single thing.
I bet they drugged me to where I can’t remember.
The therapist avoids my question, changing the topic on what she is REALLY after
“Lo, police say that they hold no record of the murders”
“They never found all the bodies I see”
“How many died, Lo?”
“Let’s just say more than at least 1,000 or 2,000 at most. But I obviously don’t know the whole numbers.”
“How many culprits?”
“Many”
“That isn’t helpful”
“You’re not a police officer or a detective”
“I think you should get your story straight”
“……..”
“Start from the beginning. What happened?”
“The truth is the truth I suppose. And I can’t keep quiet forever, can I? You people are just going to change the story left and right, putting out fake news for entertainment.”
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