At 8 p.m. in Busan, the Bambi orphanage dimmed under its routine; group therapy after dinner. A time meant for healing often unraveled darker threads. In our room, duos were formed for hushed conversations. Kyou whispered to me about the dinner menu, her voice soft until it wasn’t. Across the room, the most arrogant girl in the orphanage took liberties,her hand lingering where it shouldn’t on the only boy in the dormitory.
Hatred simmered in Kyou’s chest, spilling into her words. "If only I were as beautiful and rich as selfish Barbie," she murmured, her gaze fixed on the quintessential golden haired American, Jassmine.
Jassmine, who believed the universe orbited her whims. Money came to her effortlessly. Adoptive parents begged for her affection only to be sneered at. "Poor people adopting me? Pathetic," she’d scoff, rolling her eyes.
Her cruelty was legend. When told her parents had died, she smirked. "So, the rest of their money is mine, right?" The volunteers, aghast, probed for trauma, a reason for her malice. But there was none. She was simply a masterpiece of malevolence.
Taylor, our male roommate, was her chosen counterpart, a traitor with charm, collecting fragile hearts and discarding them without care. Birds of a feather, indeed.
That night, as the lights dimmed and the orphanage grew silent, our room remained restless. Jassmine and Taylor whispered as always, their words filthier than usual. Kyou snapped.
“For five damn years, you’ve polluted the air while the rest of us try to sleep!” she screamed.
Jassmine approached her, smiling wickedly. "Calm down, darling." She turned her attention to me, pressing her sharp nails against my lips. "What do you think, sweetheart? Wouldn't it be better to hang with me? I could make you... popular."
I stayed silent, forcing calm. One wrong move could expose the storm brewing within me.
Kyou, however, wouldn’t relent. "A maid is what you’re after? Go find someone without a spine."
Jassmine laughed, her laughter laced with venom. "Taylor, darling, tonight will be... fun."
Taylor moved fast, pinning Kyou against the wall. His hands roamed as Jassmine revealed a knife, her grin a devil’s signature. "One wrong word," she said, "and this gets messy."
The nightlight flickered off. When it returned, Kyou was gone. Taylor stood alone.
“Where is she?” I hissed, grabbing Taylor by the collar as exhaustion weighed my voice.
Jassmine’s blade pressed to my cheek. "Oh, you can talk?" she purred.
“Kyou’s learning her lesson,” Taylor sneered. “She won’t forget this night.”

Morning light seeped through the window. Neither Jassmine nor I had slept; we watched each other in silence, the knife in our stares.
When the breakfast bell rang, the dormitory stirred, but the peace shattered with screams from the cafeteria.
There, on the cold floor, lay Kyou,naked, scarred, and lifeless. Blood trailed around her like a final, tragic mural.
And Jassmine, the devil incarnate, smiled from the doorway.