Out running karma (Jimin X BTS)

chapter 27

"Why did you do that to me?"

I didn't want to. It wasn't my intention. I'm sorry.

"Oh, so beating me to death wasn't your intention. Now when I'm finally dead what got into you?"

No. Please Jimin, I'm stupid. I'm a fucking psycho. I never wanted you to die. I can never imagine my world without you. 

"Then how do you imagine me? Like this? With all these bruises? Look how good they look. You should be proud of your work. After all, it's the result of your  hardwork."

I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I'm ready to take all that. You can hit me.  Give me bruises. Heck I won't mind even if you take the life out of me. Please forgive me....

"Why are you crying? You succeeded. Isn't this what you wanted? Why do you want to die? It isn't like you've been bullied to a high extent at school and you don't have any abusive guardians. Why?"

Stop it.......you are making it worse.

"Oh! are you not strong enough to face reality or you are so soaked up in pride that you don't care about it."

Please don't do this........

"AND WHY DO YOU THINK I'LL LISTEN TO YOU?! DID YOU HEAR ANY OF MY PLEADS?! DID YOU EVER FELT ANYTHING WHILE DOING THAT TO ME?! TELL ME WHAT WE'RE YOU THINKING ABOUT! IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN ENJOYABLE WASN'T IT?! IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN FUN TO DROWN ME IN TOILET, BEATING ME EACH AND EVERY DAY AND LEAVING ME THERE BRUISED AND SOBBING! IT MIGHT HAVE PLEASURED THAT COLD HEART OF YOURS!!!!"

Hoseok jumped from his sleeping position, limbs and forehead cold and sweaty. He tapped lightly on his face and ran a hand through his sweaty hair. 

It was the same dream. It had been almost a month since he had been having the same dreadful nightmare of Jimin showing up in a dark background with miserable bruises and saying all those things. And his response was always the same. He couldn't say anything else especially when he knew that Jimin was right. 

He crawled down from his bed and grabbed the blanket which had fallen down during his sleep. Throwing it over the nearby chair, he walked towards his closet.

It had been long since he did that. In fact, he hasn't even spared an eye at it after middle school. Shuffling through random piles of clothes, his hand landed on the black leather covered diary. He remembered the last time he had used it. He had thrown it at the innermost dark corner of his wardrobe.

At that moment he had promised himself not to see that thing again but there he was, flipping the crinkled yellow pages of the old diary. Even after such a long time it was still the same. The smell of rose and woods and those depressions of letters didn't change at all. Slowly, his fingers moved across the rough tearstained sheets, regaining the memory he had tried to bury away. 

Eventually he found himself sitting on the chair with a pen in his hand. With a sigh, he flipped the last used page and began writing. 

It felt really weird and oddly relaxing. His mind blended into an eagerly awaited satisfaction as the deep blue ink started brushing lines over rusted yellow paper.

Dear Jimin,

It's been years since the last time I  addressed you. Well, politely addressed you. During these years things have taken a 180 degree turn. I'm no longer the same. I'm no longer 'me' anymore. It's so fucked up.

I can't get the image of your bruised body out of my mind and the fact that I caused them urges me to puke on myself. Anyways, I didn't open this diary to think about that. These bunch of papers have always been a way to relieve stress. Filling it up with my constant thought of regret will ruin all the beautiful moments I've opened since I first saw you.