Madhouse || Park Jimin

7

It's completely dark. The metallic smell of blood invades my nose.

Run! You have to run, he's coming!

My hands touch the wall beside me, guiding me through the house.

At the end of the hall, I see a big window with a glimpse of moonlight seeping in through the glass. But there's enough light to let me see the silhouette of a man.

Him...

He's wearing a long black coat, his face covered with a black cloth that only allows me to see his eyes.

His eyes... I can't see them in this darkness.

"___." His voice sounds so calm yet so terrifying.

I can't move. He starts walking towards me and I can only stare in complete panic, my legs not responding.

As he moves closer, I can see blood dripping from his hands.

Murderer. Run... he's closer every time.

His eyes... Whose are they?

They are...

I wake up in a jump. Another nightmare.

This one felt so real, as if it was a memory rather than a dream.

I rub my hand on my face, forcing myself to wake up and start the day.

After class is over I finally walk back to my room, closing the door behind me as I let out a sigh and lean my back against it. My room is dark. The lights are off and the clouds are covering the sun, not letting much light into the room.

I walk ahead and nearly jump when I realize there's someone sitting on my bed. My heart starts racing in fear.

What if it's him?

I'm completely frozen. I swallow as I examine the intruder and my nervous face falls to a bored one when I realize who it is.

"You, " I say.

"Me," Jimin says, standing up.

"You scared the crap out of me!"

"I know."

I furrow my eyebrows. "Wait, how.. why are you here?"

"Well, I was bored, so I thought scaring you would be fun. And I wasn't wrong." A beautiful smile curves up his lips.

"Aren't you supposed to be on the boy's side?" I ask, crossing my arms on my chest.

"Yes."

"You shouldn't be here, then."

"And you shouldn't have gone to the basement with your friend the other night, but you still went." 

Touché.

"What do you want?" I ask.

His usual smile disappears and he places his hands in his pockets. "How are you?"

His question surprises me.

"Huh?" I furrow my eyebrows.

"I don't think the loss of hearing is a secondary effect of your medication," he says and I narrow my eyes.

"Funny," I say sarcastically.

"I really want to know how you are."

"Why would you want to know that?"

"Because we're friends."

"We're not friends," I say.

He places a hand on his chest. "Ouch. That hurt."