"If I were not myself, could you truly say you're who you are?
Once this castle of sand crumbles, will you be able to collect the spilling pieces of your heart?" – Great Escape by Cinema Staff, 2013

While Jimin slept, he dreamt.

He dreamt of the year he thought he was going to die, the year he thought they'd finally kill him.

Not even physically, but emotionally and mentally. They were killing him by taking away the one person he thought he knew, himself.

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It was a hot day in the middle of summer when I saw the light again for a brief moment. They dragged me to a window and let the sun touch me for a little bit. It was so warm, but it was a fleeting moment and soon it was over.

One of the women had handed me a small stuffed puppy that could fit on my stomach. She told me to take care of it and left the room.

The windows were locked up, the door was locked, but I didn't care.

I could see the sun... And I had someone to keep me company...

I was a little bit happy...

Today I was content.

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They gave me 3 meals a day in that room. I had never been treated better than on that day.

The next day, I found myself disappointed as I didn't receive my meal. I shouldn't have been disappointed, but I couldn't help it.

I stared out the window that night, the stars glistening for what seemed to be the first time in years. They were so beautiful...

I screamed as all the people began to swarm around him, trying to grab a limb or two and make him submit.

'Now, Now, even after all we've done, you're still an ungrateful whore.'

'Stay with us, and hand over that silly toy.'

I struggled, even as they bruised me up and tried to loosen my hold on the stuffed dog.

I didn't have it in me to let go, to me, the stars and this stuffed pet, as silly as it may sound, felt like it was the only thing I had left. I didn't have Bangtan, I didn't have ARMY, and I didn't have his friends or family. Hell, I didn't even have myself any more at this point.

"No..."

'What?'

It all stopped once I said that one word. The hands stopped, and all the voices stopped. They all stared at me and my heart dropped at the realization.

They were coming even harder before and ripped my stuffed dog from my arms and obscured my view of the stars. They burned it right in front of my eyes and stomped on the ashes.

'NO!'

I screamed once it was all over, a pitiful, small cry leaving my mouth.

I covered my body with my hands and curled in on myself.

I should have known it was going to end badly for me. I wasn't allowed to stay happy for long, that privilege had been robbed from me a long time ago. I had a little bit of hope that the stars and the stuffed dog would be able to keep me a little whole, but even that was stripped from me.

"Please... Please don't leave me alone..."

So many things had happened since I had been here. It's been almost 2 years, hasn't it?

How would I know? It's been so long...

Two years and I was still stuck here. Two years or so later, I was weaker, thinner, and emptier than I have ever felt.

The fans used to call me sweet, tender, soft, and even go as far as to call me sexy. If those were what they used to call me, I didn't want to know what they were going to call me if they saw me now.

I was the only one with something to lose here if someone were to find me. If people had to resort to buying and selling someone much younger than them and taking me for all I am worth, which must be akin to nothing at this point, what did they have to lose at that point? It would be foolish of me to be clinging onto pride and respect and the love I got from the fans, but could you blame me? They were one of my sole motivators when I was with Bangtan, now what did I have?

I have never felt like more of a loser. Not even when the vicious kids at school called me a faggot, a girl, a bitch, or gay for wanting to be an idol and to dance and sing, not when I made everyone worry by going on a life-threatening diet and hurting myself again and again so I could please the fans, not when me simply breathing could be the start of days upon days of hate and slander, threatening my own and my members safety, not even when netizens picked and picked and picked at me, making me feel worthless and unwanted, leaving someone, or anyone to pick up the pieces, and not even if sometimes men and women alike would come and call me their greatest prize.

No, this was most definitely my lowest point.

I was beaten, battered, and scarred beyond repair. They took someone soft, tender, and fragile, and broke him as much as they could. He was just a shell now, a dark, hollow, pitch black cave of the human he once was, with nothing but cold, frigid air to fill him up.

In slow motion, I had to watch again and again as I tried to build myself up but be destroyed by the same hands that dirtied and sullied my body.

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I remembered exactly what had happened days before my rescue, months even.

One of my more frequent buyers had taken me back into one of the rooms of the warehouse. I was dragged along with chains to my wrists and a chain collar around my neck. My wrists and neck were red and irritated the more I was dragged along.

My legs were weak, and I felt like my legs were going to give out from underneath me.

With another tug of the chain, I tumbled to the floor. I groaned at the realization another bruise would soon be forming on my skin. As the days passed, my skin began to bruise easier and I began to bleed and mark up easier for more obvious reasons than others.

'Get up.'

He was doing this on purpose, and I know he was. He did this every time he got to me just to torture me. He wanted to see me grovel on the ground and struggle as he tried to get off the ground. I was to be humiliated in front of anyone that passed by for being incompetent. And I had no choice but to comply, or else I'd be hurt more and more for more buyers and sellers to see.

'I said get up.'

I whimpered, slowly starting to rise up from the floor. I felt like I was going to collapse on myself again if I tried to get up.

Eventually, he lost his patience and dragged me by the neck to our destination. I was struggling, tugging at the chain around my neck and trying to breathe. I kicked and gagged and choked as air got caught in my throat. My eyes seemed to bulge out my head from how much I was trying to breathe.

I was thrown on top of the bed and the chain was yanked again as my pathetic excuses for clothing were ripped from my body. I cried out as I tried to get him off of me. I couldn't breathe with how hard he was tugging on my chain and my neck was becoming even redder and irritated by the second.

Soon, it stopped. He was setting something up across the room, and I was already dreading it because I knew what it was.

It was a camera, most importantly, his phone. He always had it on him when he came to the warehouse, along with something expensive on his person that could hurt him. Sometimes it was a long, expensive tie to bind him with or a Rolex watch for him to throw just for the hell of throwing it at me. He loved watching me meltdown when I got hurt and he enjoyed watching me panic and struggle whenever he got out his camera.

I was shaking my head over and over again trying to struggle and get up. The minute he pressed that big red button on his phone and started filming, one of my reoccurring nightmares began.

I despised being on camera. Whenever I was on camera nowadays, I only wanted to leave as soon as possible. Sometimes when they filmed me... When they filmed me sometimes, I got anxiety, and it got really bad. I felt like the world was going to collapse on me and I felt like my lungs were filling up with hot air. With all the other things going on around me, it all got worse and it was like double anxiety with a lot of emotions coursing through my body and my heart all at the same time.

"NO! GET OFF- STOP!"

It seemed in the last year, my voice seemed to get louder. I seemed to want to live more and I wanted to resist, but I knew it was no use. I craved freedom, but I knew it was out of my reach.

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Jimin opened his eyes, staring up at the ceiling.

He was alone, only him.

He rubbed his eyes as he got up, trying to sit up in his bed without pain. His scars stung a bit as he got up, but that was all.

Jimin stared at his hands, trying to make them stop shaking as he clasped them together.

"Freedom..."

Jimin turned to the window as the full moon reflected in his glassy eyes. The stars shined right above him, almost as if they were celebrating just for him.

"If there were no light in the world, would you be able to find yourself?
Would you be able to keep track, and link together, the pieces of a scene shot in slow motion?" – Great Escape by Cinema Staff 2013