The throbbing in your head intensified. You flipped over and grabbed your skull, trying to stop you brain from dancing around inside. You nuzzled your face into the pillow, aware that morning had already come. Nothing made you question why you were in your bed. Why you were at home. What had happened during the last eighteen hours in NIGHTMARE. You just buried your face in the pillow until you couldn’t breathe at all. You lifted your head into the dazzling sun coming from your open window. You didn’t usually open your window. You rolled your head in circles to get rid of the stiffness, and then looked at the clock on your bedside table.

7:48 am

You never woke up that early. Well, you had slept through Nightmare completely; you were probably filled with a flamboyant rush. You shuffled out of your bed into the hallway. Your oppa was still home. His bedroom light was still on, but he wasn’t in the room. You slunk down the stairs and entered the kitchen where the disgusting smell of burned breakfast was filling the air. “Umma, what are you doing here?” Your brother was at his seat eating burned toast while your father was reading a newspaper and drinking coffee. Your father never read the newspaper; your family didn’t have a subscription to the newspaper. Your brother hated to eat toast because it was always made with whole wheat bread. He thought whole wheat tasted disgusting. “Umma!” Your mother turned around with a smile plastered onto her face.

Her shirt was caked with grease and other odd foods. When had she gotten so messy? Your mother opened robotically while smiling and greeted you. “Oh, -------- honey, how nice of you to join us for breakfast. We are so overjoyed to be with you.” She laughed fakely with her smile and eyes never changing. Everything she said sounded fake and unreal. Nothing seemed real.

‘“Child, hurry up and get eating, I don’t have the time for you to make me late. You have to finish your lessons fast or you won’t be able to sleep with a roof under your head for long.” You nodded your head respectfully before you continued to chew on your cereal. It was soggy and flavorless. “Aish.” She slapped you on the back of your head before going into the office to get your school work. You finished the cereal and put the bowl in the sink. “-------! You better clean that!” She wasn’t even in the room, but you bowed your head and did what she demanded.’

That was how she was. She didn’t smile and cook for you. Your mother was a control freak that needed everything to be perfect and go her way. She looked at you like a failure. Why did she even bother with you? Because you were to be her greatest accomplishment. When Jaejoong had come to you after the first MIDNIGHT she had cried for you, because she didn’t want you to revert back. All the hard work she had put into transforming you would have been a waste. She was not going to let you turn back into ‘that’.  When had she stopped smiling at you?

You tugged on your short hair before taking a wary seat at the table next to your father. He folded his newspaper and grinned at you like he was the ‘Fun Dad’. “--------, you are looking so lovely today, more and more like your mother.” Your mother and father looked at each other with love spilling from their hearts. But they should hate each other.

‘Your father started pacing around the house and muttering with vicious hate. Your mother chopped the vegetables with extra force. “How did this happen? Why doesn’t she act properly? You should have been watching over her! ” Your mother plunged the cooking knife into the cutting board.

“Don’t blame all this on me! You are her parent too! You have just as much responsibility in this matter as I do. Don’t act like that! And do not raise your voice me!”

“I’m not raising my voice at you!” But he was. His voice was loud enough for neighbors to hear. It made your insides shake with guilt and fear. When he started yelling you felt like all hope was lost and the tears would just start rolling. He could make you feel so hopeless and lost. Sometimes you just wanted to die because of him.

“Yes you are! Listen to yourself for once instead of speaking before thinking! It’s not my fault, so just calm down!” Her hands were at her bulging hips.

“It is your fault! Instead of dealing with her you were so focused on your failed diets!” He was spitting his words out. You were careful to not enter the kitchen ever again at the risk of slipping.

“I am going through menopause! My thyroid is acting up! I can’t lose weight right now! And just because you were athletic as a teen doesn’t mean you can rub it in my face! You have scrawny little chicken legs and a gut to go with it. That’s not very homely looking. I don’t want any criticism from you.” He pounded on a countertop.

“Just straighten that girl up!” Your mother made a desperate cry, liquid sadness forming.

“I try to! What do you want me to do? Replace her with someone else? I’m not a miracle worker! I can’t do everything for you. I have to take care of everything in the house like a good wife, but I have a job too! It would help if you would help out too. I can’t do everything alone.” She grabbed her face and tried to hide her shameful weakness. Your father cursed and started another trip around the house to think.’

Your brother made a moan at their mushiness. And who was this person? You didn’t know him. Playful and childish? He wasn’t like that. He was the very definition of teen rebellion. It was a shock that he wasn’t in the same situation as you. ”Umma, Appa, can you not do that in front of me?” He made a mocking gag before Standing up and making his way to the stairs. “I have to hurry or I will be late.” Why was he in such a rush? You were sure his shift didn’t start until later. Not until the time you normally woke up.

He came down the stairs carrying a schoolbag over his shoulder. You knew what was going on.

“You idiot boy! You lack common sense! You can’t get anywhere in life without at least a degree!” Your father was spitting again

Your oppa glared at him from his seat. “I have my high school diploma; that will be fine for getting part-time jobs!” He was asking for a battle that he had no chance of winning.

“Idiot! Stupid! Pabo! Get out of this house! You are no longer living here! Get out!” Your oppa glared at him, but inside he was backing down. He was just as afraid as you were. “I can’t stand having such a stupid son!” He said stupid, but your Oppa made fairly good grades. He just couldn’t handle the pressure from your Appa in his last years of high school. When he entered his senior year he had broken and started looking for new things to do in life. He wasn’t stupid in the idea of him drinking late and sleeping with girls after getting high off of his illegal drugs. He just stopped trying. Stopped listening. Stopped being the son he should have been.

“You lazy child! Useless piece of ! Get out!” Every word he said, even if it wasn’t directed to you, stabbed at your heart. He meant it for both of you. You curled up in your seat on the couch and tried to hide your weeping face. He hated you with every once of pure Korean blood in him. “You have no common sense. None! No common sense!”’

You had enough common sense to see what was happening. You had never left NIGHTMARE. It was just another bad dream. Stupid dreams of horror.

Their faces fell off. Each mask slipping off like the string holding them on broke. The masks clattered to the floor and revealed their true faces. Your mother, foul and possessive. Your father, Borderline and compulsive. Your brother, a deformed mass of failure. You felt your own face crack and peel off. In the reflection of a window you saw what you really were.

Your face was warped with the desire to destroy, and the need for love. Your body was weak and limp, not moving at all. There was a small hole in your chest, because you were heartless. Your family started to laugh at you wickedly, and then started a chant.

“You are heartless. With no heart. Heartless, heartless, heartless, heartless… You are heartless. With no heart. Heartless, heartless, heartless…”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I had a freaking mental break down writing this chapter. Reminds me so much of... Ok, those little bits of reality there are not flashbacks, they are memories that play in your head like the little annoying es they are. As you see this fake world you start comparing it to reality and... yeah.

Comments are motivation~♥ *is still on the verge of tears*