Byun Baekhyun, day ninety five 19:01

Routine. That’s the key. If ever you escape from a facility where your supernatural powers are being tested and make it home then you need a routine. For me, that includes taking a shower in the morning, eating breakfast relatively quickly, getting ready, and going back to the job you’ve miraculously kept despite being gone for several months. Now that I think about it, it’s weird that I’ve even kept this apartment. I didn’t connect this to my savings account and my expenses account hasn’t been moved at all. Though, when you’ve been kidnapped to test powers you didn’t even know you had then you don’t really refuse the help you get. Even if that help comes in a strange monetary stance. At least my credit isn’t shot.

I found my phone under my couch. It was dead, of course, so I charged it to find that I have 28 voice mails, too many emails, 37 texts and so on. Most of it was friends but some of it was from my family. Apparently they think I was at some sort of retreat or cleanse. That must be what They told them. I don’t think I’ll ever explain what really happened. The only thing worse than being there is being admitted to a mental facility for delusions. How would I even prove anything? Show them my power that could just as well be written off as electrical failure? No, it’s better to let them believe what they’ve been told.

If ignorance is bliss then I’ve suffered enough for one lifetime. I wish I still didn’t know about my powers at all. That I could still write them off as coincidences and I didn’t know about any of the other guys so I don’t have the urge to find them. They’re probably settling in again, maybe one of them told someone but I doubt it. No one in their right mind would believe any of this.

At times it feels like maybe nothing really happened. I know it’s only my 3rd day back but sometimes it’s as if I never even left. Things feel normal and right in those moments and I catch myself thinking maybe I really did go on a retreat and it was all some sort of vivid dream. Then I’ll find a new spot in the apartment that’s more dust than belongings and I’m reminded of where I’ve been. It’s always that feeling of floating just above the surface and suddenly being pulled back underwater with no time to gasp for air and then everything comes rushing back.

When I have trouble focusing I’ll sometimes see Minseok’s leg, blue and freezing steadily before my eyes. As overwhelming as that thought is it undoubtedly leads to the moment Jongin appeared before us with a battered Jongdae. Then I’ll hear the screaming, Yixing’s screaming, and it feels real again. Like once I open my eyes I’ll be back outside of Seoul carrying my somewhat-friends as they flit in and out of consciousness. It’s horrible and it makes me sick and weak and brings me to the verge of tears or worse, verge of calling someone to vent. I can’t do that. Not for my sake nor for the sake of the others. Another form of survival, a social one.

Though one thing can ground me better than anything. Opening the window, feeling the breeze as it passes. It reminds me that I’m out and at the same time I’m safe. I guess it’s called a coping mechanism and I can understand their appeal. I’d much rather deal with it like this than go to a psychiatrist and get diagnosed with hallucinations. I trust my mind for the most part. I know what I saw is real. The fact that lights tend to flicker when I’m near is proof enough that at least some of it has to be true. It can’t be a coincidence, can it? That’s a lot of convenient coincidences then.

Where was I? Oh, windows. There’s so little that happens now, I don’t think I even need to keep writing in this. Maybe one day someone will find it and read about everything. Maybe they’ll believe it or maybe they won’t. Maybe they’ll burn it or put it in a museum. They might even copy it and create the next best-seller. There are so many ways that situation could play out but the most terrifying one of all is if They find this. If anyone else does then the information will at least be out there and if for some reason they capture me again, maybe there’ll be a chance that I’ll be rescued. Or maybe all of this is just the wishful thinking of someone who’s losing their mind. It wouldn’t be the most surprising thing in my life.

A window. I need to open a window. It’s way too stuffy in here. It’s like I put my thermostat to 40 degrees. Breathing isn’t supposed to be this hard, is it? No, it’s not. It should be easy and natural and not heavy and strangled. Oh this is bad, I need air. I have windows, I can open them. I just need to get to one and I’m good. Just one window. Just one…

Much better. Air, a severely underappreciated element. I should probably tell Sehun that. He doesn’t think his powers are very useful but he could whip up a storm if he wanted to. His potential is there he just doesn—no I can’t think about Sehun. I can’t think about any of them. To me, they’re as non-existent as my powers. Should I just call it powers? They can’t be mine if they don’t exist. Because they don’t. Super powers aren’t real and neither are secret facilities to test them out. The 8 men I think I met are simply figments of my imagination. It’s amazing what the subconscious can produce…

Who am I kidding? It happened. It’s all real. It’s all real and they’re hunting me down. I don’t want to go back.