Generations Expectation's | 8th member of BTS

44

| Korean Words meaning |

Still none, lol.

Anything in regular font = Korean

Anything in Italics = English

Anything in Bold = Spanish

Anything in Bold & Italics = Any other language besides Spanish, Korean, or English

*Was July 19th, Now July 26th*

Ae Cha's POV

It had been a week till I was finally released from the hospital.
That week had felt like forever to me.
My days were filled with poking and prodding of needles, and meetings with specialties to see what made my fried brain tick. I was exhausted after every day but I was told I was making a great process in recovery.

Each day, I woke up with a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, it would be the day I could finally leave the sterile confines of the hospital. But as the days went by, it became apparent that my body was still too weak to be discharged. The injuries I sustained during my captivity weighed heavily on me now, and even the simplest of tasks seemed like a daunting challenge.

The private one-on-one counseling sessions with Dr. Leech were particularly draining. We delved into the depths of my trauma, peeling back layers of pain and fear that I had buried deep within. The process was necessary, but it left me feeling numb and emotionally drained. There were times when I felt like shutting down completely, my mind unable to process any more information or relive the horrors I had experienced.
The basement.
The starving.
The pain.
It all crawled into my brain and out onto my skin. So heavy, so dark.
Group therapy was a whole other beast. Sitting in a wheelchair, my back still healing from the injuries inflicted upon it, I listened to others share their own stories of trauma. It was both comforting and heartbreaking to know that I wasn't alone in my struggles. We formed a bond, a silent understanding that transcended words. But it also served as a reminder of how much our lives had been shattered, and how far we had to go to rebuild ourselves.

There wasnt a day I didnt fear, or maybe even wonder where Bongseon was. I had opted to stand protest at her trail so I was left to know nothing. My Aunt Becca refused to tell me details, she was handling it all for me. I would catch her every now and again, out in the hall, talking to detectives or on phone calls in regards to Bongseon but her voice was always hushed and if she saw me she would always disappear away from my sigh.  At night sometimes, in feeble sleep, I would awake frightened by nightmares she had escaped and was standing over my bed. Ready to take me back and play her sick games of captive and mother once more.
Sometimes the nightmares didnt involve her at all.
Just her basement. I could feel the cold and must on my skin and I thought that my escape was all a dream and I would wake screaming in a cold sweat.
Those were the hardest night.

Throughout it all, Aunt Becca stood by my side. Her unwavering presence gave me strength when I felt like giving up. She attended every session with me, offering a comforting hand to hold and a shoulder to lean on. I could see the exhaustion in her eyes, the toll that my ordeal had taken on her. It pained me to see her sacrifice so much for me, but I was grateful beyond words for her unwavering support.
She called Cassie and Gabe every day, but she still didnt let me talk to them yet, I didnt push her on it.
I missed them greatly and I knew they missed their mother. I try not to let the guilt of it all eat at me but on days when she would sag in the hospital sofa, nodding off from exhaustion it would all hit me hard. Though the guilt of seeing my aunt drowsy and worn out there was a constant weight on my shoulders, I knew that I couldn't do this alone. Aunt Becca had been my rock, my guiding light in the darkest of times. And I vowed to myself that once I was stronger, I would be there for her in return.