11:21 am

No strenuous activity. Nothing that would harm you in any way. How would you get rid of the pent up frustrations? You needed to release your fury and sadness. If you couldn’t be in one Tae Kwon Do class you would freak out. You pounded on the wall in your room. You hated to be so cooped up. You picked up the copy of Sherlock Holmes from your desk. You hadn’t read it since the night you went to nightmare. Taking the blood stained book, you walked down the stairs and out the door. That neighborhood. With Jaejoong in it and avoiding you, it was painful to be around. You walked around, still holding the book. What would you do?

You walked far enough to be in the crowded part of the city. Away. You wanted to get away from all the feelings. You wanted to lose yourself. You went into the subway and bought the cheapest ticket. You had been smart enough to grab your wallet before leaving. You rode the train around for hours, trying to just forget your life and get lost in the world. You watched the city pass, and pass, and pass. Nothing had changed. Life in Seoul had continued as if nothing had happened. There was no NIGHTMARE, there was no random person killing people randomly, there was no care.

You got off the train far from where you had gotten on. You walked around the new part of the city. There were shops you weren’t used to seeing. Nothing caught your eye. Name brand stores filled with things people didn’t need. People showing off in front of their friends and in front of people they didn’t like. People pretending that they loved their life. People pretending that they hated their life. When we only get one life, why did people only think of the end? They should have been living in the moment. One day, it would all disappear, and they wouldn’t get the chance to regret it.

You stopped in front of an art gallery and decided to take a step inside. The name of the gallery show was Dystopian Era. It was a student show from a local high school, so the ticket prices were low enough that you had enough Won for the trip home. Before entering the exhibit a woman was stamping hands. It was for the people that left for some reason. If they wanted to get back in all they had to do was show the stamp. Clever, but you didn’t like the pink hearts that were being given out. You walked up to her, handed her your ticket and held out your hand for the stamp. She stamped your hand and looked at your wrist with interest. “Are you a fan of ‘I’ also?” You stared at her with wonder. “He is a brilliant painter that has been recently rising recently in the art world. His paintings show a real horror. His name is ‘I’. I thought you were a fan, my mistake.” She smiled at you and ushered the next person up. You took a glance back at her before walking into the gallery.

Most of the paintings were shoddy and had no real dystopian feel to them. Some intrigued you, and several scared you at the realism in them. They were so true. One painting was of Modern Day Korea. It sent shivers down your back. Then you finally got to I’s painting. ‘I read a real gruesome one of a person being thrown into a pit of starving bodies and being eaten alive.’ bodies surrounded one lone person raked them with their teeth. They sunk them into the person’s pump flesh. Their face was screaming in pain. The cannibals were animalistic and hunger crazed. The room danced in fire. The people that weren’t eating the person held their faces in pain and hunger. Their faces pointed up as if they were begging to be freed. You turned away sick.

“What do you think of it?” You didn’t turn to him. You should have realized it was him. A person that had survived NIGHTMARE and was a painter. Keeping your eyes closed with tears running down, you answered.

“I hate it. I want to tear it apart right now and leave.” You made a fist with your hand and held it to your side. You fought the urges to scream. To break down into hysterics. You resisted the desire to punch him. “Where did you read about this?” You were facing away from him, trying to keep your voice as steady as possible. It came out softly and resigned. Yoochun tapped your shoulder and walked away. You bit your lip and followed him. He led you out, past the stamper. When she saw the two of you together she gasped then smiled at you and gave you a thumbs up. She pissed you off for some reason. He led you down the busy street to an internet café. What was going on?

As you entered a few people looked up from their laptops and computers. They quickly lost interest and you and Yoochun sat at a computer. You put Holmes in your lap so you wouldn’t forget it. He turned the computer on before getting up again. “I need to order something or we have to pay to use the computer. What do you want?” You gave him your request and waited. Waiting was all you could do. He returned without the drink you had asked for. “They’ll get it in a moment, let me just show you while we wait.” Wait. He went to the internet and typed in an address in the search bar. http://www.midnightmare.com/ You closed your eyes and turned your head. It wasn’t real. ‘If you are reading this you have just entered NIGHTMARE and chances of escaping are currently at 0%. You have until MIDNIGHT to crown me as your DICTATOR or it is GAME OVER. Please enjoy your stay. ~♥’ It wasn’t real. The copy of Conan Doyle slid from your lap.

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AS I was typing the website the link turned blue. I was curious to see if it worked so I clicked on it. I didn't have any real doubts of it working since MidNightmare isn't really that creative. The link goes to some fraternity page for this goth fashion... It doesn't really fit...

I wrote about Yoochun because last night I realized that I didn't write about his Midnight. I don't want to go back and add it so I wrote about him in this chapter.

Comments are motivation~♥