I looked down at the number of people thousands of feet below me, silently waiting for me to begin. I was a trapeze artist, something not many circuses have these days. I grabbed the bar, pushing myself off of the little platform and down I went. I dipped down towards the safety net, letting the bar go, flipping towards the one stationed between the two high pedestals, catching it with only one had, ignoring the slight tug of pain in my shoulder, swinging from it like a monkey before hoisting myself upward, landing on the bar with both feet. I heard the crowd gasp and softly smiled to myself.

I’ve always loved the way people would gasp and protect the ones they favored. If the bias would do something embarrassing or disappointing, some would instantly rebuke them, even if that person loved the bias, just so they couldn’t be the outcast. But then there are the people that don’t care if the bias murdered someone and the odds are against them. They will stick with their bias until they went down in flames.

I grabbed one of the ropes that supported the bar, jumping off to secure myself onto it, binding my body to the rope before pulling out the pair of scissors that I kept in the waistband of my tights.

I let the light from the spotlight that was on me hit it, the crowd gasping at what I was about to do. I cut the rope, the bar swinging away from me slowly, tucked the scissors back in my waistband and let go of the rope.

 I spun in every direction imaginable, grabbing the rope milliseconds before it would release me, the speed of it singing my hand slowly. I climbed it, my legs straight, not letting it touch the rope before reaching the only intact bar. It was easily in my reach, but just to tease the audience, I feigned loosing balance and not being able to reach it, falling towards the net, screams being heard from the crowd as a plummeted down to the net.

I curled in myself, flipping quickly through the air, easily twisting through the air ten times before the net coming into sight. I prepared myself, doing one Salchow jump before landing on my feet as I hit the net, my heart pounding. I bounced a good ten feet into the air, doing a plain somersault to gain height, hitting the net on my feet once more before reaching the rope of the cut bar,  climbing onto my original intact bar, standing on it simply, the audience speechless.

I smiled softly before swinging back to my starting point, the pedestal to my left, bowing ninety degrees, and climbing down. The crowd screamed in astonishment, I hoped, and got to their feet as I reached the floor. I bowed once more before exiting the stage and entering my parent’s arms. I looked up at the happily, smiling brightly, jumping up and down like the small kid I was, glad to see them.

Their faces contorted into that of agony, pieces of their anatomy fall at my feet. They began screaming in pain, blood spurting out from the gaping holes, spraying my face with the warm liquid. I opened my mouth to scream, the blood getting inside, choking me. I hacked up the blood and my own acid liquid that came from my throat, not willing to reach their eyes. I fell to the floor as they did, my eyes filling with tears at their deteriorating frames, my body shaking as they looked at me with betrayal and hate for what I had done to them, my heart breaking. I gasped softly at their intense stares that I began to scream despite my violent coughing and retching.

I could speak with a rough whisper when there was nothing left of them but pieces of their body parts still releasing blood.

I leaned forward despite my fear, closing my Eomma and Appa’s eyes upon their severed heads, kissing their foreheads softly

“Dangsin-I eomma, appa salang hayeola. Jal jayo.” I love you mom, dad. Sleep well.

I was shaken awake roughly, gulping down air greedily as if I had been holding my breath when I realize I actually had been in my sleep. My eyes fluttered open to see my older brother Hyun Ki looking at me with worried eyes, his revolver discarded near the foot of the bed. I sat up, gasping to catch my breath, my vision slowly clearing, and the white dots that clouded my vision slowly disappearing. I sat up in bed, jolting back towards my headboard when the door jerked open, and a figure pointing a gun into the room. I felt my heart lurch into my throat, clenching into a ball, tears spilling from my eyes abruptly.

The figure reached for the light switch, flicking it on, my heart unclenching as I realized it was my eldest brother Tae Il, his pistol cocked, ready to shoot. I cried even harder, flashbacks from that night 7 years ago still freshly imprinted into my mind. Hyun Ki gathered me up, pulling me into his lap, rocking me back and forth as I let the memories flood into my mind and take it’s toll on me. I clutched his shirt, Tae Il slowly sitting on the bed, leaning in to hug me as well, me in between them, touching both of their chests.

I cried for roughly about 30 minutes, my body shaking violently when I went from blubbering to sniffling. Hyun Ki sat me down into my bed, Tae Il looking at me warily.

“Was it the dream again Vitani?”

I nodded, struggling to return to normal when a searing pain seized the left side of my back. I gasped softly, leaning forward, taking it off the shoulder, my brothers shocked at my sudden stagger forward. Hyun Ki climbed behind me, touching the shoulder gently, sharing a brief glace with Tae Il.

“Is it your shoulder again Vitani?”

I nodded rapidly, Tae Il and Hyun Ki splitting into action. He ran to the bathroom, Hyun Ki lifting my shirt over my head. He pulled my bra strap down, pausing slightly. I knew his face had gone pale by his hesitation. On my left shoulder blade was the word written in Hangul, then again in French, and again in English, running from the top of my shoulder down to the small of my back, taking only the left side of my back, thankfully. Those men had written it with a knife, scarring my back forever.

Tae Il came back with a bucked filled with water and a cloth, placing it next to Hyun Ki, dipping the cloth into the water before pulling it back out, and wringing it gently. They worked together, Hyun Ki keeping my shirt up while Tae Il pressed the cloth gently against the risen and distorted skin. I hissed silently, jerking forward, struggling to get out of the way of the ice cold cloth on my hot skin.

“Stop squirming Vi, I have to do this.”

I huffed at Tae Il’s words, biting my bottom lip as he put the cloth against my scalding skin once more, water droplets making trails on my skin, some steam rising from the cold and warmth meeting. It was over in ten minutes, Tae Il finally putting the cloth back in the bucket and walking out, Hyun Ki fixing my shirt, looking over at my Pikachu clock on my nightstand. He pulled me out of bed gently, ruffling my hair.

“It’s your first day of 11^TH grade. It’s 6:30AM sadly Vi. Go get ready and me and Tae Il will make breakfast."