Loop || MIN YOONGI ✔

XIV.

Do ya'll still get the story so far? Confusing? Answers will be revealed in the next chapters 😉😉 Read on!

So much angst, I can't even- HDHSHNSNZJWJANANSHWHS

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I stayed at her grave that day.

Many times, I have already rubbed my eyes to see if it was just my imagination. I was so sure that her name was on her tombstone the day of her burial.

For some reason, I can't remember what her name was.

"Fuck.." I buried my face in my hands and grabbed my hair in frustration and confusion.

I was wrong to blame her about forgetting. All this time, I was the one who couldn't remember. Scenarios flooded in my head, having a hard time imagining how much it must have hurt her that I could not call her by her name.

It was me.

Indeed, it was my fault.

What was wrong with me?

Right in front of my eyes, she was gone.

All the answers I wanted was from her alone and she was not here anymore.

Once again, my phone beeped indicating that a message from the unknown contact was received.

I glanced towards the screen.

From: Unknown

The truth won't be easy.

Bloody hell. Of course, I know it wouldn't be easy. Who does this person think he or she is? Some kind of god who can take control of the situation? My situation specifically.

With that, I finally had the strength to go back home with a heavy heart. I would later on decide what to do with the rest of this mysterious curse.

Upon arriving, I was surprised to see a package laid on the middle of the living room table. I looked back at the front door, sure that I locked it before going outside this morning.

It was already 6 in the evening.

The package was wrapped in brown paper, the ones used in groceries. It felt a little bit heavy in my hand. I opened it carefully, bearing that it might be a fragile object.

It was an antique hand mirror, with a message engraved on its back.

Do not despise the days of old beginnings.

Now my head hurts. Too many poems are coming right at me. I write songs from time to time but the composition is not as complex as these.

The glass showed a crooked reflection of me. It wasn't even broken or shattered but the image it produced was not an exact replica. I guess there was something wrong with it.

When I continued to stare at my broken reflection, I could swear I saw myself smirking.

I instantly let go of the mirror, thankfully, on top of the sofa so it didn't shatter into pieces. My breathing became ragged at the sudden encounter.

My reflection looked like it was about to murder myself.