Time was no longer real or extant. Nothing moved or changed, Krystal merely sat, slumped by her bed, staring at the wall. There was nothing interesting about said wall, not particular paint or patterns, no posters or bookshelves, nothing that even marked any sign of Krystal even having lived here. Yet as Krystal stared at this unending nothingness, her mind was completely and utterly swamped. 

She'd gotten out of bed today. 

Yet here she remained on the floor. 

How long was anyone's guess. 

Her mind was both at a standstill and entrenched in an irrevocable spin. Her thoughts were racing and slowing down like one of those horribly large, disorienting roller-coasters you'd go to at a theme park, the kind that would take you up soaring heights, pausing only just for a moment's relief, before plunging you down into the depths at speed that made your stomach turn and get that horrible, falling feeling in your chest. 

There was no hope of stopping this feeling. 

Yet every now and then, Krystal would advert her eyes and be meet with a something far worse. 

She'd look over to the window sill, and see her sister standing on the balcony, drenched in the pouring rain and staring back in at her. She'd look over to the bathroom, and see her sister faceing towards the mirror, staring straight back at her. Glancing at her bed, there Jessica would be, sat staring at her, a mix of- 

Well, that was it. There was nothing in her eyes. The life was gone from behind her eyes, and only blank emptiness remained.

"Get out of my head..." Krystal mumbled to herself, pressing her hands to her head as if she could physically force the images away. 

For now at least, it seemed to work. 

She didn't know what compelled her after that, but Krystal reached out under her bed, feeling around in the emptiness for a moment or two until she finally found it, and dragged it out. The brown case was dusty from years of wilful neglect, yet seeing it now didn't give Krystal the overwhelming sense of dread that she'd thought it would. She ran her finger along the edge, clicking open the locks that sealed it shut, and opened it up to see the life she'd left behind. 

Piles of old photos, letters and a couple of leather-bound diaries from her teenage years. At 22, Krystal was by all means still young, yet for an old soul like herself, who'd seen more hurt and pain than most people her age, looking back at all of these memories now felt like looking back at another life. 

School photos of a younger, happier Krystal competing in track races at school, shaking hands with the Principal when she'd been awarded Head Girl, photos of her and Jessica ice-skating when they were young teenagers, photos of them back in San Francisco as children. All so distant now. 

Photos of herself and Taemin, posing for both of their Senior Proms, posing on a beach in Cali, and again on New Years Eve. Krystal felt a morbid shiver ricochet down her spine as she looked over these photos. It had been just under a week since that mistake with Taemin.

What was she even thinking? How could she have gone with him, let alone spent the night with him, knowing not only all the pain he'd caused her before, but knowing the sheer confusion she'd have to endure afterwards? 

Of course, part of her really did want to be there and support him, even if it meant something different to her than it had to Taemin at the time. No matter what passed between them, that part of Krystal that cared for Taemin would never go away. 

Yet sleeping with him was still a mistake. She knew it was as soon as she'd woken up that morning and realised what had happened. In spite of the part of her that felt so happy, so safe and so normal in his arms then, there was that undeniable part of her that knew it was wrong.

But that still didn't stop Krystal. Because there was still that part of her that always felt something for him, and still did. Even if he was using her this entire time for some bizarre, obsessive investigation into her sister's disappearance. 

On the other hand, whilst she'd stood beside Taemin that night, smiling and cheering when he got his awards and nominations, part of Krystal's mind was always wandering back to Kai. 

Where was he? What had he been doing in this past month that they hadn't spoken? Was he thinking of her? Was he feeling whatever strange concoction of feelings that Krystal had been feeling this entire time? 

Every moment she'd spent with Taemin that night, the other half of Krystal felt guilty, as if she was betraying her friendship and connection with Kai by merely being there with Taemin. This guilt only deepened as she looked at old film photos of her 16th birthday at her house party; where her parents had allowed her the one chance to have a chaotic, messy highschool party, the party where Kai had infamously thrown up on her carpet. An inescapable grin made its way onto Krystal's face at the sight of a much younger, Sehun and Jongdae, struggling to hold up an intoxicated and incapacitated Kai in the corner of the photo.

Almost too instinctively, Krystal reached for her phone on the desk, realising only as she went to text Kai, that her phone was dead - it had been for days. 

Kai had such a talent for making Krystal forget about everything, forget about herself. She'd give anything to have some of that energy around her right now, to give herself and a mind a chance of slowing down, a chance just to be. 

But Kai was unreachable - he had been for a long time now. If Krystal knew anything by now, it was that she could only, truly depend on herself.

Tucking away those photos, Krystal reached out for what she'd really been looking for. She didn't diary too often growing up, only made sure to do so during the biggest moments in her life that were simply worth writing about. Krystal had stopped writing the moment Jessica disappeared.

She opened up the last one, turning to the last pages that she'd written in, and just for once, reminded herself of what had happened.

Everything is great. More than great. Perfect. We just got back from San Francisco, where we brought Taemin to the place we'd grown up and the place I used to call home. It was the most magical holiday, and he really is practically part of the family. I just wish Jessica was in a better mood the entire time. She's probably just jealous that she's never had a boyfriend to bring on f