flashbacks.
[partner :: open ]
Flashback
“Big sister!” The small voice of a young girl called out to her. A face she somehow knew but could not fully remember.
“Bomi!” She could hear her own voice call it. She wasn’t in control of herself, it was like she was looking through the lens while someone else was in control. Another version of her. One that smiled too much. Her hands reached out and picked up the girl who only looked about 5 or 6. She felt the smile on her face as she held the girl, but she saw her torn sleeves and dirty hands. She herself was probably only 11 or 12. Is that what her hands looked like so small? She didn’t like not feeling in control of her own body.
“Big sister, did you find dinner?” She could feel her own smile falter at the young girl’s question. She had a stale loaf of bread, and only enough to feed the young girl.
“Yes, little one. I have something.” She held out the piece of bread and the young girl took it and took a bite before holding it to her. She shook her head and smiled. “I already ate.” Her stomach silently grumbled in response to her lie, but she couldn’t let the girl starve on accord of her own stomach. She put the girl down and she happily munched on the bread even though Somi knew that it couldn’t taste all that good. And suddenly, the happiness changed.
The young girl dropped the bread and started to cough. She placed her hand over her mouth and continued. “Bomi?” She moved up to young girl, kneeling with eyes wide in fright. The girl pulled her hand away from her face, blood on her sleeve.
“My stomach hurts…” The small girl whimpered. She watched as Bomi’s skin started to turn ashen.
She looked down at the bread, eyes widening as she saw the green tint on the inside. Someone had poisoned it and placed it somewhere to be found by people who lived on the street. And she had given it to someone she loved. “Bomi!” She yelled out, as the girl fell over into her arms, coughing and bleeding from the mouth. Somi’s consciousness stared through her own foreign eyes, horrified as the scene played out.
Without another word, she felt warmth surge through the foreign body that she was in. She could feel Bomi’s cells quiver as her own power was being used. This body, it was hers from so long ago. But why was she using her power for something she could not hope to heal? She could only heal physical ailments and poison was entirely chemical. She tried to cry out to herself to stop, but her body would not listen.
“BOMI!” She cried out, intensifying her power. After a few minutes, she felt her body weakening. All sounds around her started to slowly mute and her vision started to darken. In the distance, she saw someone running towards her. Hyori. But that did not stop her from using her abilities. The girl went limp in her arms, the poison taking its course. Somi let out a scream, now one with the foreign body that was also her own. Everything went black and she felt her body hit the ground just after the thud of a small body hitting the ground before her. She heard the faint voice of a woman and then…. Nothing.
Somi had been carrying fabrics to the costume tent, intent on finally rearranging things so that everything could easily be found. After last night’s performances, too many people had come to her complaining that they had to settle for a different costume because theirs had vanished. She was intent on putting everything where it was supposed to go as well as labeling each area for each member so they couldn’t go wrong. It had been a foolproof plan, at least, that was until she felt the tingling and warmth in her head. She had only enough time to gasp before her own vision went blank and the flashbacks started.
She fell to the ground with a hard thud, her body violently seizing and her eyes rolled back into her own head. The violent movements of her body were not felt by her, as she was in her own head, but the fabrics around her posed a danger to her as she had fallen in such a way they had twisted around her body. For a healer, having seizures that could come on at any time was frightening – because there was nothing she could do.