PITYING THE PRISONER | p.jm

t h r e e - c o r a

I have never been more stunned by anything a prisoner has said to me. I have broken over fifty prisoners since I was twelve, and never have I been spoken to this way. Every single captive either begs for their life or says they're going to kill me. They're either acting powerful or pitiful, but this one is so very different. He seems to be acting wise, like he's playing some kind of mind game. I've never dealt with someone quite like this. What am I supposed to do?

"Are you okay?" He suddenly asks me. I guess I was looking rather dazed, and his concern only shocks me more.

"Y— Yes. I'm alright."

"Just making sure. You were sitting there for a few minutes, I was worried."

I check my watch again, noticing that eight minutes have passed. It only felt like a second or two.

"Why?" I ask.

"Why what?"

"Why were you worried?"

"I don't know. I shouldn't be, but I am. Maybe I just want the last person I see before I'm killed happy. I honestly have no clue."

"You have every right to hate me," I manage.

"I know."

"Why don't you?"

"I don't know."

"Are you afraid of me?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"You could kill me, torture me, do anything you want. I'm a scaredy cat in my group— I'm timid. You terrify me. You have every reason to."

"I don't want you to be afraid of me," I speak without even thinking about it. My own words are confusing me. What is going on in my head? Why can't I get it together?

"Then help me get used to you. I'd rather not be scared of you, either."

"We'll get to know each other, then. What's your name?"

Something seems to click in his eyes and a smirk works its way onto his face as he speaks. "402."

"No, don't say that. Your real name, please." Why did hearing him say that hurt me? Why do I feel so conflicted?

He sighs, seemingly unsure. "Park Jimin. And yours?"

"Lee Cora. You're an idol, correct? What group are you in?"

"Bangtan, or BTS. We're a hip-hop group."

"Do you rap?"

"No, I sing."

"I've never heard of Bangtan," I say to myself. "I don't get out much, though."

He smiles again. How can he be smiling in a place like this? I don't understand Park Jimin at all. My watch beeps, jolting me from my thoughts. It's 12:30— my time is up.

"I have to leave," I say, standing. I'm aware of the fact that anyone could be behind that mirror right now. Anyone. I'll be beaten half to death if anyone sees me leaving after acting like this. What do I do?

"Park Jimin," I say, getting his attention. I like the way his name sounds. It sounds far better than 402.

"Yes, Lee Cora?" He asks.

"There aren't mics in these cells, but anyone could be watching me. If I get caught being kind to you, I'll get removed from this position and you'll be stuck with someone far meaner. Neither of us want that, so I've got an idea."

"I'll let you make it happen, then," he says. He puts his head down, seeming small. I don't like it when he does that. I want him to look at me again, but I don't know why.

I lean down and speak, developing a character once again. "Look at me," I order. He does.

"Lee Cora is a very pretty name," he says very quietly. For whatever reason, his compliment makes me sad, maybe because of what I know I have to do to get out of this alive.

"Thank you," I say in response to his compliment, my voice a whisper. I raise my hand, not looking Jimin in the eyes. I feel terrible when I slap him. I never want to have to do it again. I turn around and leave his cell, not daring to look back.

When I see that the hallway is empty, I want to slap myself for hurting him. It was for nothing. I walk back to my quarters and lay on my bed, taking in every single tiny detail of my ceiling. Many, many thoughts race through my head, but they're all variations of the same one.

Why is Park Jimin different?

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hello!

no one's reading this, but I'm updating it anyway. (fun fact: i wrote this part out when this book was really small lmao, i know a ton of you are reading it now! thanks!)

please leave feedback, i'd love to hear what you have to say! also, it's almost three in the morning right now, and my motor control is kinda lacking, so please alert me to any typos i may have made. much love.

stay swaggy,

sam

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