Her name was Kim Jieun. 

She was 19 years old. She had 3 sisters and a younger brother. She was the second youngest child, absolutely adored and doted on by her parents, Kim Jaehwang and Kim Yesol. 

She's not here anymore. I asked where she went to, but no one would tell me, even when I begged them.

Why?

Her body was found, swinging from a  red rope on the ceiling of her room on the morning of March 3rd 2014. She was still bleeding heavily from multiple stab wounds all over her body, each one of her delicate, slender fingers were deliberately broken, one by one. The police told her parents that it was used as torture and interrogation method a long time ago

They found her blood on me, smeared messily over my face, on my fingers, my short, light brown hair streaked with clumps of dark red. They found a bloody knife clutched tightly in my hands. They found me, curled up with my knees pressing heavily on my eyes, completely unconscious under her dangling body, a single strand of red rope wrapped around my fingers. They found traces of DNA under her fingernails. 

They were a direct match to mine.

She was a sweet girl, loved by everyone she knew, praised to the high heavens due to her gentle nature with others. Even her parents paid more attention to her than to any of their other children, most especially ignoring their youngest, Kim Taehyung.

Just like anyone else, I have no reason to ever kill Kim Jieun

Why do they still believe it was me?

*

Today, I stood in front of a crowd of people, trying to convince them of my innocence. How could I do so, when all the evidence pointed ultimately, not to my  innocence, but towards my guilt?

I was there, I had the knife in my hands, her blood was on me, and my DNA was found on her. There was little to no chance of proving that it wasn't me.

I sat without a lawyer. Not a single qualified person would want to defend a person so obviously guilty. I was utterly and bitterly alone; suffering in silence.

They asked me what I remembered from that night, March 2nd, 2014. I told them nothing.

I have no memory of that night. 

They asked me where I was at 11:47 March 2nd, 2014. I told them I didn't know. 

Did I have an alibi to fortify my statement? No, I didn't. 

I could tell they didn't believe a single pleading syllable uttered from my mouth.

With each word I said, the reproachful, accusing looks grew stronger and stronger, overwhelming me more and more with each passing moment. I couldn't handle it anymore, I felt myself slipping away. 

It wasn't me

It wasn't me...

*

It was me.

I felt pleasure as she begged me for mercy, feeling that knife slip into her milky white, untainted skin over and over again, hearing her piercing voice as she pleaded me to stop, to just let her go. There as no one there to hear, just like no one was there to listen to me as I screamed for the help I know I deserved.

Hearing her dainty fingers snap aroused a rush of adrenaline that surged within me, giving me ultimate strength and unlimited power, things I was never given the chance to feel before, overloading my senses. 

I liked it.

I was about to leave her to bleed to death on the cold, tiled floor, when I thought, "She should suffer more". She should feel tenfold, hundredfold, my own pain, for everything she has done, everything she will do, for everything she took away from me, for every experience that should've been mine, but became her's instead.

I wrapped a red rope around her pretty, unblemished neck, and pulled her across the room from where she lay,as  helpless as a newborn child, like a dog on a leash. She was always a beautiful singer, so to hear her angelic voice so broken, so strained was the music that soothed my wretched soul.

I sang to her as I raised her body higher and higher with jerking, almost deliberate, movements. I sang to her as her face turned from pale white to a vicious red, to a deep, dark blue. I sang as she started gasping for breath, not even begging me to let her go anymore. She was too busy trying to get enough oxygen into her convulsing body.

I had a beautiful voice too, but no one bothered to listen to mine. 

Why did they only listen to her? 

What made me so different from her?

Was it because of the way I looked? Was it the way I acted, the way I held myself? Or was it because of who I am; was being me the only mistake I had ever made?

They wouldn't listen to me in life, so Jieun would listen as she lost hers.

*

I awoke to a suffocating darkness, broken only by a thin line of weak light coming from a slit in the dark grey wall. The space was small and damp, chilling me straight to my bones, the thin grey uniform I was wearing doing nothing to keep me from freezing. The cold, unrelenting bars on the miniscule space in the wall mocked me, unbroken walls pressed down on me, leaving me claustrophobic. 

My very own prison cell, in Division 17 apparently. The Special Division, for Special Prisoners.

The Mental Division

*

173.

That's the number stitched onto my uniform, the number etched onto the unyielding, silver bracelet on my left arm, telling me that I was the 173rd person to set foot in Division 17. On closer examination, I saw a tiny flashing green light set in complicated lock system in the serrated edges. It was a tracker. I really was a prisoner.

I don't understand; why would they put me in prison for something I didn't do, let alone put me in the infamously unescapable Division 17?

*

I've lost track of time in this place. I could've been in here for a week, maybe two, maybe months have passed. Time didn't matter anymore in this living hell I now call my home.

The guards here are especially cruel. They left a clear picture of her mauled body in my cell, still hanging from that red rope, the blood clotting thickly on her, the scars clearly visible. It sickened me, and the cramped space I had been forced into reeked of vomit for a very long time after that.

Who would something so inhumane, so cruel to someone as pure and innocent as Kim Jieun? I certainly wouldn't, I have no reason, just like anyone else, to kill this delicate, butterfly-like girl. I had no motive, but they still believed it to be me guilty of this horrendous crime.

Why?

Why would I kill my own sister?

*

I pity him, Kim Taehyung.

He is suffering badly for something I did, and I try to help him as much as I can. He doesn't remember much of his time in Division 17 because, honestly, it's been me for most of the time. We've been in here for about a year now and for the most part, it's been as if Taehyung was unconscious, to be replaced by me, V.

He truly is innocent.

I killed Kim Jieun, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. It had to be done, for the sake of her three older sisters, Jinah, Hwayoung and Jooyoung, who were ostracized by their parents; for little, fragile Taehyung, who was constantly put down and belittled; ignored in favour of Jieun. 

Nothing he did was ever enough for Jaehwang and Yesol, and because of that, I came into existence, created by Taehyung's subconscious as a defence mechanism. I am Taehyung's silent protector, hs guide through everything. However, he never remembers what happened when I take over, so he doesn't remember killing Jieun, but it was better that way anyways.

He is far too innocent, completely untainted, but naive. He was literally a 6-year-old stuck in the body of a 17-year-old boy. He can't be blamed for the black and white way he views the world. His mind stopped developing due to a traumatic experience and soon after, I took over, protecting him from the harsh realities of life.

He's too innocent for the rough, grey desert of this bleak world.

In a world of corruption, he should remain untouched and pure, like an angel fallen from Heaven, residing among us filthy mortals.

Case #23 : Officer Park Chanyeol

Notes received on July 09, 2016 from : Dr. Byun Baekhyun, criminal psychologist. 

 Page 1 of 1 Document 2 090716

Officer Park

Enclosed is important information regarding the murder case of Kim Jieun.

Regards,
Dr. Byun Baekhyun
---

Patient Kim Taehyung

Date of Birth : 
                       30 September

Family (living) : 
                         Parent/Guardian : Kim Jaehwang; Kim Yesol (non-biological) 
                         Siblings : Kim Jinah; Kim Hwayoung; Kim Jooyoung (non-biological); Kim Namjoon (biological)

Family (deceased) : 
                               Parent/Guardian: Kim Sol; Kim Jaeyeon ; Siblings : Kim Jieun (non-biological)

Initial Diagnosis : 
                             Multiple personality disorder

Additional Notes:
                             Adopted at age 5 by Kim Jaehwang and Kim Yesol. Found guilty of the first degree murder of Kim Jieun, killed by alter ego, known as 'V'. Retains no memories while under influence of said alter ego. Has developed to the age of aprrox. 6-7. Possible case of neglect/abuse, leading to multiple personas, of which  'V' is one. Unsure as to how many other personas present, as only 'V' has been displayed. 'V' tends to take over without patient being aware. Highly unstable. Handle with the utmost caution.

You know me 
(No, you don't know)
I am both Jekyll and Hyde, don't run away from me
Don't give me those scared eyes
I'm not a bad person, I love you
Don't give me those scared eyes
There's a different me that's not me inside of me

~hyde-VIXX