Hyoyeon’s POV

Time, what is it exactly?

A human constraint forced onto the workings of the world in an attempt to create order and control.

Why do we measure it?

Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years, in my contemplation I find these words so frivolous.

What meaning do they have really?

Seconds, 60 in each minute, 60 minutes in an hour, 24 hours in a day, 7 days in a week, so many weeks in a month, 12 months in a year, they bear no meaning to me.

Time is merely an illusion, something imagined to give our existence a recordable system of measurement. There is only one of these, of all the words that confine time, that makes sense to me.

Eternity, infinite time; duration without end or beginning. It describes my situation with an uncanny likeness.

This did not have a beginning, this excruciating torment, and, as far as I can tell, there won’t be an end either.

2 hours, 46 minutes, and 57 seconds since the earthquake, the torrential and abrupt shift of my life.

“47…”

I guess I shouldn’t be so vague. In my 25 years I have never experienced an earthquake before, although from what I’ve heard, I appear to have the symptoms. Shaking, involuntary movement, things shifting and changing out of my control, and worst of all, it came in such an unpredictable suddenness.

“So sudden…”

Why was your departure so sudden?

You were never one for surprises, you despised them really, so why the abrupt change in character?

My love, do you know what comes after an earthquake?

They call it the aftershock, the effect, result, or repercussion of an event; aftermath; consequence.

An apt description for this feeling casting dominion over my senses.

“3…”

3 hours now have passed. You would think the effects would have dulled by now, to let up in the crushing weight on my system, but sadly, the bigger the disaster, the more devastating the destruction in its wake, the greater the aftershock.

I guess that explains the erroneous, disastrous path of carnage leading from the door you took your final bow from.

The glass vase was the first object I hurled in my heated disorientation. I wanted to hear the crash as the splintered fractals resounded in their obliteration. I needed someone or something besides the cries tearing themselves from my own, berated throat to scream in agony with me.

Then there was the lamp, the television, even plates that somehow managed to transport to my hands from the kitchen were spared no mercy.

I beat the glass against the ground with no restraint, my fists too furious to allow anything to be less broken than the body they were attached to.

I hold my hands to my face, eyeing the suffering I have brought upon myself. There’s still small shards of glass embedded in the torn and mottled flesh. The blood, once thick in its embodiment as it trickled along my arms, now dried, crisp and dark crimson against my tanned skin.

The slits in my skin have crusted closed, deep red bandages of wasted blood preventing the previous outflow from returning.

It reminds me of the time I cleaned your wound after you tripped on the elevated border between our room and the next. Your cry of pain was all I needed to run to you. I carried you to our bed, gently cleaning the cut with a damp cloth. I bandaged the small mark, placing a light kiss on the clean, white gauze.

You aren’t exactly here to return the favor now are you.

After the self destruction, the wave of sorrow I had been holding back engulfed me. Trapped in its undercurrent I screamed, for air, for help, for you. Who knows really. All I could understand was the all consuming pain the shrieks conveyed.

The tears fell hot and salty, the bittersweet taste suffocating me. I choked on those tears, my breathing hitching in response to the lack of air. They fell in great beads, the sheer weight of the sorrow inside of them pulling them forcefully to the ground.

My love, did you know blood and tears aren’t miscible?

No, instead of mixing they danced. The tears initiating a superb display, the two liquids fighting for dominance of the other. They spun, intertwining, crawling across the floor, creating a flowing trail of opposite forces.

Blood, deep in color, hot, conveying feelings of passion and anger.

Tears, light, cold, bittersweet and saddening in their presence.

They simply weren’t meant to be.

Finally we come to now, the third wave of the aftershock.

Numbness, deprived of physical sensation or the ability to move.

And I haven’t. I’ve lain motionless, nearly 3 ½ hours now since you left. And as I began counting these seconds, minutes, hours, I started contemplating just how unnecessary time is.

2 years, that’s 24 months; 104 weeks; 735 days; 17,520 hours; 1,051,200 minutes; 6,3072,000 seconds.

You see, I worked all of these numbers out, but did it fix anything?

No, so obviously that time meant nothing to you.

The thing is, when you left, I expected you to take the time with you. I didn’t think the clock would keep ticking, the world would keep revolving, the people to keep moving.

But the world isn’t gonna stop for one little broken heart, that’s what they say.

My love, my world stopped, doesn’t that count for anything?

………………

What if this is all my fault?

Have I changed?

Am I no longer worthy of her love?

I always tried to be a good girlfriend to her. I said sweet words, I gave her gifts, all of my attention, all of my love. I gave her me, in every essence of the word I was hers. I would follow her anywhere, do anything for her.

“Why was I not enough…?”

I screamed this in my head, but it only came out a mere whisper. My throat must still be sore from all the screaming.

I unconsciously wipe the newly fallen tears with the back of my hand, a sharp pain curving along the skin under my left eye.

“,” my eye winces closed, the pain causing even more tears to come crashing down.

I feel the blood trickling down my cheek, I need to get cleaned up. You wouldn’t like seeing me this way.

I never did like seeing you frown.

As I step towards the restroom I glance at the door once again. There’s a copious amount of blood splattered across the disaster zone. I should be feeling week after losing so much, I guess this is the true effect of the numbness coursing through me. I can’t even feel the physical pain that should be overwhelming me at this point.

I glance at the bathtub and breath a sigh.

Maybe I should just get it over with, let my veins empty out and bring me a true, deep numbness.

“My fault…”

That’s true, this is all my fault. I chased you away.

I deserve to suffer.

I glance into the mirror, tracing my gaze over every feature.

My eyes are red, the skin surrounding them slowly puffing and darkening. The cut under my eye is oozing blood, the dark liquid creating a mask over my lower features.

I run a finger through the thick coating, allowing the digit to pool the blood on its tip.

So beautiful, the rich, deep color. It reminds me of the lipstick you wore that night, our first kiss, I remember it fondly.

I press my finger to my lips, running my tongue over the liquid.

It taste so much different from the light flavor of my tears. It’s thick, the flavor reminiscent of iron.

As I remove my hand from my face I check the state of my arms. They’ve finally begun to bruise, spots of purple and green dotting my skin.

I really did quite a number on myself. But I don’t regret this. I did this to myself, I pushed her away, I deserve every ounce of suffering I can cause myself.

I came to cleanse myself, to wash away the grotesque film of disgust over my body, but I think these markings are a rather fitting punishment.

If I faint, bleed out, even die, what will happen?
It doesn’t matter, I no longer care for my fate.

Sleep… I just want sleep.

I turn the faucet over the bathtub, letting the cold water slowly drip into the basin.

While I wait I saunter into the kitchen. I grab a plate from the counter and carelessly toss it over the edge. The crashing sound allows a small smile on my lips as I begin pulling various drinks from the upper cabinets. I don’t even read the labels, I don’t care about the brand or the proof, just give me the effect.

The burning liquid sears down my throat, creating a sensation that forces the hair on the back of my neck to stand up. As I drain a bottle I drunkenly stumble over to the iPod docking station. My motor skills are completely inebriated but I manage to slide my finger over the play button. Tablo and Taeyang’s Eyes, Nose, Lips blasts through the speakers and I can’t help but move to the beat.

You used to love to watch me dance.

“You left me paralyzed, no cure no rehab for me, funny that you got the nerve to keep asking me, how I been.”

I copy the words with my slurred speech and pour more of the liquid down my throat.

“Please fade… Fade to black…”

I repeat the words once more and throw the empty bottle against the wall.

“But you won’t will you!”

I slam my fist into the wall, picture frames on the wall shaking from the resounding vibrations.

This picture… I slide my finger across the frame, tracing your smile with my bloodied finger.

“Why did you ing leave me?!?”

I take the frame and throw it across the room, continuing to dance along as the song changes to 1 AM.

“What happened to forever?!” I toss the next bottle at the clock, watching it crash to the ground with a smug smile.

“But I just want you by my side right now.”

I turn to the radio and release a small cry.

“Are you on her side? Why would you say such hurtful things to me…” I drop to my knees, a horrified scream escaping my lungs.

I catch my eye in a shard of glass and the tears brim in my eyes once again.

“You’re fault! This is all your ing fault!”

The piece of glass slides easily into my grip and I slice it along my forearm, the blood pouring and forming a puddle at my feet.

“You need to pay for this! She was the love of your life! She was your everything! But you let her go! You failed her! You didn’t love her enough! You weren’t useful enough to her! You’re unlovable! Don’t you ing understand that?! She was your only chance and you ing let it slip through your fingers! Just ing die already!”

My jaw goes slack at the realization, the words echoing in my brain, buzzing around in their demand to be heard.

My mind was right in the first place. I can throw things, I can scream, I can cry and stare at the clock. Those things didn’t work. Drinking and dancing and tearing myself apart, this isn’t helping. I can’t be helped, I can’t be saved, she already tried, and she couldn’t, so she left. There’s only one thing left for me.

I return to the bathroom to find the tub filled to the brim. Without bothering to turn off the water I slide into the cool release, feeling the searing sting as the water snakes its way into the tears in my skin. Within seconds the water is dark red, b over the sides with my increased mass. As my eyes grow heavy with strain I stare once more into your visage.

“My love, I’m sorry, I can’t hurt you anymore…”

I feel my eyes close one more time as I whisper my goodbye to you. Please, find happiness without me, my love.

Sorry for the short chapter you guys, I just had some thoughts inside that I needed to express. I hope you guys like the story, even if it is rather brief for me. I apologize for not updating as much, my life seems to be constnatly changing and expecting me to keep up. As always I will do my best to serve all of you, your faithful servant ~After SNSD