Jongin's neck jerked, the veins slightly pulsing. Sweat trickled down his slender arms, his body shuddering.

He could only scream. The air was thick with despair and he only wanted to break free from it. His breath was ragged, and he can't do anything else. He was in the pit of doom. The handcuff that tightly encircled his wrists creaked in protest.

His eyes were lidded. He wanted to dance, no, he needed to dance- it was his source of coping with anything. But he was found out, and he was cursed.

He choked on his tears. He didn't care if he was like a baby little girl now- because he already knew that this was the end. The curse will never break free, because of his own recklessness.

He sobbed, shaking violently. 

He knew the Scientists will just laugh and mock at him, at his misery, at his pathetic attempt to break free.

From the prison he created himself.

He let out a shudder, his sweat mixed with his own tears. His wrists were bleeding, the metal had cut through his tanned skin.

"Please," Jongin whimpered. "Please let me dance, just for one more time."

He could hear the scowls and laughter or the audience behind the one-way glass pane, only to make him more helpless than before.

"i'll do anything if you let me dance for one more time, just please, let me free-"

A loud laugh interrupted his pleads, followed quickly by the others. He gritted his teeth, hoping that this was all a nightmare.

But he knew it was not.

Because in this world, dreams were non-existent. Imagination was prohibited, and creativity was declined by the society. Jongin was the rebel, who found passion in creativity, in dancing, and well, he just created his own demise.

Because he never belonged there.

I just want to break free.

{ enlightened_ }