The facility was cold,
Ji Gun sat quietly in a corner, her eyes staring blankly at the cracked paint on the wall. Her hands, still faintly trembling, rested in her lap. She didn't know what to feel anymore. The numbness had become her constant companion ever since that night. The night her father had died under her hands. The night her life had spiraled into the suffocating prison of this place.
Across the room, Hana ran her fingers through her hair, her gaze distant. At times, she seemed to be fully present, but there were moments when she became someone else entirely. Hana's mind wasn't just fractured; it was divided. She had shot her best friend in a fit of rage, a moment when another personality had taken control. Sometimes she didn’t even remember the things she'd done, and the others could tell when she was slipping into someone else. When that happened, there was always a hesitation in the room, a quiet fear that the girl who had been their friend was gone.
Eun Ra sat on her bed, her head tilted slightly to the side as though she were listening to something no one else could hear. She had manslaughter on her record, the product of a violent moment triggered by her lucid dreams. Her dreams were real to her, more real than the world around her. And sometimes, they blurred the lines between waking and sleeping, making her believe she had to act on things she couldn't explain. The others often looked at her with a mix of concern and wariness, unsure if she could ever truly be in control of her own actions.
Min Ha paced the room nervously, her eyes darting from one corner to another, always on edge. Her paranoia made it impossible for her to trust anyone, not even herself. She had been sent here for assault, and her fears ran deep, causing her to lash out at anyone who got too close. The guards, the other girls, even the simplest touch or sound made her jump. She had learned to withdraw, to isolate herself, but that only made the terror inside her grow louder.
Dong Hwa, her eyes wide and sensitive, sat by the window, gazing out at the world she could no longer touch. The colors of the world outside seemed too vivid, too intense. Sounds, smells, even the weight of the air pressing in on her—everything was amplified. Every little detail of the world felt overwhelming, and it had driven her to stab a teacher, a moment where she couldn't escape the overwhelming sensation of it all. She often retreated inward, blocking out the world as much as possible, but it never fully worked. The sensory overload was always there, lurking just beneath the surface.
Yoo Rim, on the other side of the room, was lost in a mood swing. Her anger, her sadness—they came without warning, unpredictable and violent. She had been sent here for assault, but the battle inside her was far from over. Her mind was plagued with thoughts of death, of ending it all. Sometimes, it felt like the only way to escape the overwhelming sadness that threatened to consume her. The other girls never knew which version of her they would encounter, and the constant shifts made her feel more isolated than ever.
Seo Yun sat quietly in the corner, her body hunched over, as though trying to shrink into herself. Her bipolar disorder was a constant battle between extremes, her mood swings crashing from one end to the other without any warning. She had been in juvi for homicide offenses, her emotions spiraling out of control one fateful night. The weight of her crime pressed down on her constantly, and she longed for peace, but it always felt just out of reach. Her depression was like a fog that clouded everything, making the world seem bleak and hollow.
Nari, the youngest, sat near the back of the room, her fingers tracing patterns on the floor. She had been arrested for drug crimes, her borderline personality disorder caused her to make impulsive decisions in search of validation. The drugs had been a way to numb the pain of her confusion, her search for identity. But now, in juvie, she was left to face the consequences of her choices, the desperation in her eyes reflecting the turmoil inside.
These girls, each trapped in their broken minds, spent their days moving through the motions. There was no solace in this place, no sense of safety. The therapy sessions, the mandatory group discussions—it all felt hollow. They weren’t ready to face their pain, and even if they were, there were no easy answers.
Sometimes, in the stillness of the night, Ji Gun would hear the others talking, their voices soft and uncertain. It was a rare moment of connection, a rare moment where the walls between them seemed to fade, even if only for a brief second. It was in those moments that Ji Gun realized—maybe they weren’t so different after all.
Maybe they all just needed someone to understand. Someone who could see the pieces of them that didn’t fit, and still offer them a place to belong.
10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ47t6lcAwTr
(I'll update tomorrow, I'm tired, it's 9:00 AM)10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKo1HI8WYWx
