MCMH | Chapter 2.1

A few days passed. I was still abandoned in this huge room. Cain hadn’t come by.

“Hello… Is anyone out there?”

Cherry asked at the closed door, but no one answered.

Without windows, I couldn’t tell the weather outside or the time. Guessing how many days had passed was just that—a guess. There was no clock. I lost my sense of time.

In one corner of the room was a large bathroom, about the size of the bar I used to work at, with a big bathtub and fragrant cleansers and shampoos labeled in French.

The bed was big enough for three people, and the floor was covered with a plush rug, with a wooden tea table and a fluffy pouf.

Even the drawers were neatly stocked with clothes. When I tried them on, they fit me perfectly, even the underwear.

Everything was provided, but I couldn’t leave. The grand door remained shut, refusing to budge.

“I want to go out… Please let me out. I’ll be good, okay?”

Cain had locked me in this fancy prison and hadn’t come back. I’d rather he just used me like before, until I was sore.

Being left alone for days, all I could do was compose songs in my head.

I spent time singing the songs I made up.

“Tears made of sand, a house made of sand, the walls are crumbling. I need a smaller place. Because I’m crazy.”

The notes I pressed into the sheets quickly disappeared. It was a score fitting for my insignificant song that only I remembered.

Though I couldn’t tell the time, meals seemed to come regularly. The menu changed each time. Luxurious dishes I couldn’t even recognize were brought in on a large tray, enough to make my eyes widen at the feast.

The person delivering the meals was too scared to talk to, so I gave up trying to ask anything.

Once, they forgot to bring a teaspoon, and I missed the chance to return it. And the next meal, another teaspoon came.

Like a prisoner dreaming of escape, I hid the teaspoons under my pillow. But what could I do with a teaspoon? Like in an old movie, a grand escape was impossible for me. Of course, I’m not the protagonist. Always the sidekick, Cherry. The decoration, Cherry.

Cain probably had someone he saw regularly. Maybe not a lover, but a fling. That was my hope. Now that his impotence was cured, he’d go back to them.

‘I need to pay Jasmine’s hospital bills…’

Patients who don’t pay their bills get kicked out, right? I don’t know how long old Jasmine can hold on. I wish I could make a call.

Of course, a call wouldn’t change anything. But it would be better than being helplessly trapped like this.

Days without distinction between night and day continued. I occasionally suffered from terrible hallucinations. I saw my mom, just as she was when she died, hanging from the ceiling, looking down at me. Blood dripped from the knife wound in her neck, wetting my forehead.

Mom, I’m sorry. You died because of me, right? You killed yourself because raising me was too painful. I was wrong.

My voice didn’t reach the mom on the ceiling and scattered in vain. The terrible guilt covered me along with my voice. It was rather cozy. Because it was familiar.

The hallucinations came more frequently, so I couldn’t eat. It felt like my body was filled with filth.

Though melodies kept coming to mind, the unorganized notes just floated above my filth like a buoy without a string.

It was meaningless. Notes that didn’t find their place were just noise. Like a cherry that wasn’t decorated.

At some point, I felt chills even though it wasn’t cold. My teeth chattered, and I was anxious for no reason.

I finally realized why I had no appetite. The withdrawal symptoms were starting again.

I’ve seen countless addicts. Many came to The Box, causing a scene because they couldn’t get their fix.

I’m just like them. Low-life, trash, scum, irredeemable.

‘Please save me…’

I wished someone would find me and save me. Forgetting where I was, I wished earnestly.

Maybe this is heaven. Isn’t heaven actually the most terrible place? Maybe it’s the most terrible place, but people fear death, so they made it seem happy.

The withdrawal symptoms were like a terrible cloud. Clearly transparent and without substance, yet it obscured everything around me. Anxiety wrapped around me like white smoke.

After not eating for several meals, Cain finally came.

“Babe, are you rebelling? But not eating is such an old-fashioned tactic, isn’t it?”

He pulled my limp body up. Cain frowned when he saw my face, like he was looking at something spoiled.

“Tut, what happened to your pretty face?”

Seeing his eyebrows furrow like that, I felt like he genuinely cared, and my heart softened a bit.

“Cain…”

“Yeah.”

“Jasmine… My grandma is in the hospital. Please let me see her…”

Cain smiled at my words. A cold smile that only reached his lips.

“If you behave, I’ll let you.”

Then Cain’s hand reached out. I lay helplessly on the bed, letting him undress me.

As soon as I was naked, Cain spread my legs and undid his pants buckle. His menacing erection was revealed.

He squeezed gel onto his member from who knows where and poured it onto my backside. The cold sensation made me shiver.

The moment that huge thing, not even a finger, touched my backside, I cried out urgently.

“Hey, promise me.”

One of his eyebrows raised slightly.

“Promise you’ll let me contact Grandma Jasmine. I’ll behave…”

He smiled again. Raising the corners of his mouth. Like he was doing me a favor. Like an adult to a child.

“Okay, I promise.”

Then his erect member mercilessly thrust in. Pain overwhelmed me.

Cain handled me as he pleased, just like before. Every time he touched me, I felt like I was melting like mud. Like my shape was disappearing, just dripping away.

“Ah, ugh, it hurts, it hurts…”

I cried out, but it seemed he didn’t hear. After days of rest, my lower part couldn’t accept Cain. I wanted to scream, but I held back because I had to behave.

My empty body, having eaten nothing, shook like a paper sheet. I was crushed and squashed as he moved.

I didn’t know sex could be this painful. It was far from pleasure. Cain just pounded away for his own good. Why do others go crazy over this?

Cain pinned me down, making me unable to move. It felt like being devoured. And like I was getting used to the pain he gave.

When it was over, Cain stroked my hair and kissed my forehead. Ironically, that act was as tender as if he were with a lover.

“Does it hurt?”

“Uh, yeah, it hurts…”

“If you prepare in advance, it won’t hurt as much, right?”

Cain spoke in a gentle tone, as if teaching a child, and smiled at me. This time, he smiled with his eyes.

At that moment, I realized again how handsome Cain was. His two different colored eyes seemed to caress me.

Stupidly, my heart fluttered for the man who had just treated me like a rag. Maybe it’s because I’m dumb, but who wouldn’t be comforted seeing that face smile up close?

“I’ll prepare…”

So I answered without realizing it.

Left alone, panting, my body felt like debris. I wanted to throw myself away.

Shortly after Cain left the room, a woman in a black suit came in and handed me a phone. Seeing the call already connected, I hurriedly took the phone and put it to my ear.

“Jasmine, Jasmine?”

-My dear.

Hearing her voice, I felt weak. I almost cried with relief.

“Jasmine, how are you? Are you in the hospital? Are you okay? I’ll definitely pay the hospital bills…”
-My dear, Cherry, calm down. I’m fine.

Though she couldn’t possibly be fine at her age with an illness, Jasmine said that to comfort me.

-Cherry, don’t ever worry about me. Understand? I’m really doing well.
“Yes, yes… Jasmine, just wait a little. I’ll come…”

I’ll pay the hospital bills and take care of you. I’ve earned a lot of money. I was about to say that when the phone was taken away.

I clung desperately to the woman who took the phone back.

“J-just a moment. Just one more word. Just ten seconds, okay?”

The woman coldly shook me off and left the room.

I knocked on the door for a long time. Please, just let me talk for ten more seconds, I behaved. I mumbled at the closed door, but of course, no one came in.

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚

On the days Cain had his way with me, I didn’t see hallucinations. Without seeing my dead mom, I could compose again in my head.

I caught the notes floating around and pinned them in the air. Though invisible and not shining like stars, the scales resonated in my mind.

A few days after seeing Cain, the hallucinations quickly returned. If I fell asleep while composing, sometimes that man appeared. My father, I mean.

‘Trash. The bastard who killed my mom. Shouldn’t have been born.’

Next to him, my mom with a slit neck looked down at me.

‘Cherry, my dear. My beloved child.’

When I opened my eyes, I was alone in the room, retching and trembling. The withdrawal symptoms had started again. I wished someone, anyone, would give me that shot those thugs gave me back then. I wished and wished, even muttering it out loud.

It was my new song. A new fear mixed with my mom and dad.

My fear always sank slowly into me from the moment sleep ended. And it pooled like sticky tar.

It was never washed away. After all, tar doesn’t dissolve in tears. Maybe that’s why I chose to laugh. Tears are useless.

“Because I’m crazy, I need a small house, I need a smaller house…”

I mumbled the lyrics, curling up tightly. In this already small room, I wanted to become even smaller.

Curled up like that, I suddenly remembered what Cain had said.

‘If you prepare in advance, it won’t hurt as much, right?’

Even after experiencing it twice, the heat below subsided faster than before. But if that monstrous thing came in again, it would tear again.

I decided to be a Cherry who does her homework well. If I kept my hole loosened as he instructed, it would hurt less when Cain suddenly barged in and thrust that huge thing.