Day 20: Finally, your muse has died. They have written a will. What’s inside it and who will they address? To those already did, did they leave a will? If so, what did it say? If not, why and if they could have left a will, what would it have said? How would they feel if they died on campus and the university covered up their demise as a mere accident? Would they haunt the corridors as a spirit or pass on peacefully?
“You’ll stay with me?’
Until the very end,’ said James.” - J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows
Myungsoo hates the idea of dying, but he would leave a will. Who does he address? The same people that he loves and holds close in his heart. Sungyeol, Woohyun, Sunggyu, Dongwoo, Krystal. He would call each of them by a cute nickname in the will such as the handsome lovely derp, umma, papagyu, neighbour who eats my food, and that girl who always follows me. He doesn’t want to die so young though. He wants to live and have fun and date actually. What inside the will? His weapons, his anime collection, basically nothing much. He wouldn’t really leave anything behind. The will would just have some words of affection and encouragement. The onlything he would actually leave behind to a person would his cell phone in its Despicable Me case to Sungyeol (because he knows how ridiculous that case is)
If he died on campus and the university covered up his death like an accident, he would be mad as fuck. Myungsoo would never pass on quietly if that happened. He would just haunt and creep the shit outof people and scream occasionally. More likely, he would be haunting Director Kang because of reasons and just being an everyday poltergeist. Because lets face it, Myungsoo doesn’t give any fucks.
FIVE. Recall your muse’s greatest memory in great detail. Why do they consider it so great? What did they like so much about it?
The events of Sehun’s greatest memory date back to one of the earliest memories he had of his parents.
The memory took place in a large recreational park, on a cool morning in March. Seven-year-old Sehun was perched over his mother’s lap, playing with the ends of one of her straw hats whilst she sang one of the lullabies she had memorized to heart. Sehun's father was sitting down right beside them, his eyes skimming over the pages of an old book.
It was peaceful – far more peaceful than Sehun could have ever remembered his parents being. Whether he admitted it or not, there had always been a sort of tension in the air surrounding his parents, a tension that seemed to be much more present when they thought Sehun wasn’t in the same room.
The reason why he's so fond of this memory is because that day in particular was one of the few days he’d felt that his parents were truly happy the way they were.
SIX. Now, recall your muse’s worst memory in great detail. What do they hate so much about it? Why can’t they forget about it?
Blood. There was so much blood.
Sehun recalls this memory in particular far better than others, but he’s absolutely certain that he despises it with every fiber in his being. It had been while he was crossing through a small alleyway, on his way home from a study session at the public library when they came unannounced – his so-called ‘friends’.
Sehun waited.
He waited for the cruel taunting and the harsh bite in their words to come to a stop, balling fists at his side whilst his patience slowly, inevitably wore out. There was only so much he could take, after all.
It happened in an instant.
One second the group’s ringleader was on his feet, and the next he was on the gravel, Sehun’s hands gripping tufts of his collar with his jaw clenched and his eyes filled with something far worse than pure anger and instead filled with rage, which to him, was far more uncontrollable – far more violent and unpredictable.
It was only when Sehun felt warm liquid trickling past his sinewy digits that he was dragged back to reality – the fury he’d been bottling up for so long overweighed by the realization that struck him when the boy’s eyes rolled to the back of his head.
No one stopped him when he pulled back, eyes wide with horror. No one stopped him when he took off running in the opposite running. No one stopped him the following day, or the day after that.
His greatest memory? That’s a tricky one. Sungyeol thinks he has a lot of great moments in his life that are worth remembering, but if he has to choose the greatest one, well... It will have to be that time. That turning point in his life; his defining moment; his liberation as well as his destruction.
It would have to be the day he first killed someone (on purpose, no less). Sungyeol remembers very clearly, as he had been driven by sheer desperation, as he watched the boy choke on his own vomit and blood.
A few days back, he’d overheard some of his classmates discussing about how some patients drank bleach to pass drug tests, and how much bleach it would take to kill someone. They would be glad to know that Sungyeol figured it out that day.
Sungyeol had felt no remorse, no regret, only a strange sense of freedom. He had been 15 going on 16 that year. Instead of frightening, it had been thrilling. He had only committed the act of killing that one time, but it’s a high that Sungyeol is very much attracted to, and he certainly won’t mind doing it again.
If people consider their best and greatest memory as one that makes them smile for no particular reason when they reminisce in their bed at night, then yes, this is his greatest, favourite memory.
SEVEN. What is your muse’s favorite means of relaxation and why? What is their favorite pastime (hobby)? What is their least favorite pastime?
Joy’s favorite means of relaxation would have to either be laying down and doing completely nothing and if not that then definitely something very, very similar. She enjoys singing more than anything, but she does occasionally like to spend a free day hitting the books (although more than often, they’re History textbooks). Her least favorite pastime would probably be playing videogames because she finds them a complete waste of time, nonetheless completely meaningless.
SIX. Now, recall your muse’s worst memory in great detail. What do they hate so much about it? Why can’t they forget about it?
Joy’s worst memory was at a large shopping center. It had happened a bit after she and her mother had entered a large supermarket.
Her mother had been holding her hand the entire trip, but as soon as they entered she’d told Joy to stay right where she was, and that she would be back in a couple of minutes. Joy had remained rooted in her spot – key word: had – for a good five minutes before she decided to go looking for her mother. She remembered walking till her feet started to ache, feeling panic taking over her entire being.
But what she’d felt the most was abandonment. She could never, ever forget how she had been hopelessly lost and how her mother had completely abandoned her (although her mother had been quick to make it up to her when they reunited hours later).
She hated the experience as a whole because she had felt so needy and dependent and helpless when she had been roaming amongst the crowds and the feeling – even to a twelve-year-old, back at the time – had been downright sickening.
FIVE. Recall your muse’s greatest memory in great detail. Why do they consider it so great? What did they like so much about it?
Surprisingly enough, the events in Sooyoung’s greatest memory occurred not long before she applied to university.
It was a day that had been anticipated among the graduating class of 2014, a day they had marked down on their calendars from the earliest start of the school year. Sooyoung hadn’t been expecting to feel as excited as she had been, but then realizing that it was finally there – the moment of truth, the first stepping stone to the real world – it had been greatly overwhelming.
After four memorable years of sitting through her classes, giddily laughing along with her schoolmates, cramming for her finals a night before the exams begun – it had been finally time.
She could have only described the feeling of electricity running through her veins and the soreness in her cheeks as she kept on her grin, one wide enough that it seemed to nearly reach her ears.
She recalled shaking hands with the administrator, standing by the podium in that uncomfortable robe, and tossing her graduate cap along with the rest of her schoolmates. She recalled feeling so overjoyed. But what she remembered most of all?
That it had been one of the very rare times she hadn’t felt that itch crawling somewhere beneath her skin – the itch to light and burn.
