Despite the constant noise of people chatting around us and the train wheels rumbling loudly outside, the ride was horribly quiet. Baekhyun sat across from me – barely half a meter between our legs – but it seemed as though an invisible wall of glass separated us. He kept staring out the window, lost in his own thoughts and oblivious to the cruel battle of emotions happening inside my head throughout the entire ride. Neither of us had made an effort to say a word since we'd gotten on the train, but then again, what could you possibly talk about after a disaster like the one we’d just witnessed?

Even the rescuers who had poured out from the big fire truck and ambulance were stunned when the view of our car that had easily transected the hard metal fence hit them head on. Luhan had been lucky – the car had happened to skid a bit to the left before hitting the barrier at full speed. This had caused the right side of the car to receive the brunt of the impact. The metal fence had cut through the bonnet like a knife through butter, folding the remains of the car hood like a paper harmonica. Sehun's legs hadn't endured the pressure and had snapped in half like a pair of matches, both somewhere under his knees.

I knew because I'd seen them dangling lifelessly when Baekhyun and Jae had pulled his body out of the car.

I looked down at my hands, curled into fists, and the sight of Sehun's blood smudged on them almost made me barf. I swallowed down the lump forming in my throat, and, biting my bottom lip as hard as I could, I looked out the window, focusing on the pain and the sudden taste of blood in my mouth. The sound of ambulance sirens constantly rang in my ears. Jae screaming for someone to get me away from Sehun's body and Baekhyun's arms wrapping firmly around my waist were still there, piercing my head, cleaving every part of my body over and over again. Like a nightmare.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't erase the scene of the accident from my mind. It was like someone had decided to torture me by replaying a bad movie I'd once watched, and I couldn't find the button to switch it off and end my misery. As soon as I closed my eyes, be it even for a second, the view of the accident came flooding back, bringing with it even more pain and leaving me breathless – on the verge of tears.

But I couldn't cry. I didn't deserve to cry.

Trying to swallow back the unshed tears squeezing my throat, I looked up and took a shaky breath. I needed someone who would embrace me and tell me that everything was going to be okay. I needed the physical contact of someone I trusted, the warmth of familiar arms around me, to soothe the tremors of panic shaking my body over and over again. But I also knew very well that my cravings weren't going to be satisfied, because the person I wanted to see right now wasn't here. Because Sehun...

"Are you okay?"

Hearing Baekhyun's voice, I looked back down to see him staring at me in silence, waiting for my answer. Although it seemed he'd finally awakened from the daze he'd been in for the last few hours, his eyes were darker and more absent than usual. It was as though he hadn’t even realized he'd asked a question in the first place.

My brain served me a palette of answers befitting the question that hung in the air, but I struggled to choose one because of the ineptness of them all. I could say I was okay, but we both knew I was far from it. I could speak the truth and tell Baekhyun that I felt like a torn-up piece of paper, but what could doing so possibly achieve? It would only place a bigger burden on Baekhyun's shoulders and, honestly, he already looked miserable enough, without me further adding to his struggle.

So instead, I stood and jabbed my thumb at the door behind me. "I'm going to the bathroom."

Despite my best efforts to sound natural, my voice broke at the end of the sentence, and I immediately my heel to rush out of our compartment before Baekhyun could give me a questioning look. I even feared that he would consider following me – just to make sure everything was fine and that I wasn’t about to suddenly jump out of the speeding train – but when I finally stopped in front of the toilet door and glanced back in the direction I had just come from, there was no one there.

Quickly, I locked myself in the train's bathroom, ignoring the fresh smell of cigarettes filling the small space around me. It was forbidden to smoke here, but people always ignored the signs hanging on every wall and used the same excuses: “I didn't see”, or “I didn't know”. Everyone knew it was all lies, because only a blind person would fail to see the “No Smoking” signs threatening you from every free bit of wall in the train.

They were just obtuse s: small, ty ignorants who preferred to act oblivious because it was easier, simpler, effortless to live that way.

And sadly, I was one of them.

God knows how long I'd been leading Sehun on for my own satisfaction, terrified of being left alone. I'd always known his true feelings, but, just like all those smokers, I’d ignored Sehun's attempts to show me how much he loved me. Just like them, I'd turned a blind eye, because doing so spared me the hassle of going through a long, explanatory talk with Sehun. It saved me from getting my own heart broken when he would eventually decide to leave me. Because as much as I couldn't love Sehun back, I couldn't live without him even more.

So I’d done it out of my own selfishness, and there was no excuse for my actions. I'd hurt Sehun deeply – consciously, and with coldly calculated premeditation.

God, I was a monster, wasn't I?

Feeling fresh tears threatening to fall at any second, I the faucet and splashed my face with cold water. The blood on my hands caught my eye once more, and, despite my feeble attempts to stay composed, I broke down again. As if it were happening before my eyes, I saw the nurses tearing Sehun's shirt open, trying to wake up his heart with electric impulses and making his lifeless body jump. I knew it was all my fault, and the blood on my hands was proof of my guilt; so I reached for the faucet again and put my hands under the running water, rubbing the skin furiously to get rid of the dried blood.

Although the water turned red, it seemed as if I was only smearing the blood all over my arms. Feeling terrified, I rubbed my skin harder, using my nails now. I wouldn’t stop till I’d removed everything. Even when the tears blurred my vision, I kept hysterically scratching at my bloodstained skin