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𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐘 𝟐𝟕, 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟑
MARK WAS TIRED.
he was so unbelievably tired, he really didn't know how he was still alive. he knew taeyong would be giving out their first big assignment of the semester, so at least he'd have something to distract himself with. it was nice in a way, having one last assignment before he finally gave up. a last hurrah!
he fell into his seat, staring blankly into space. he licked his bottom lip with his tongue as he waited for class to start. he didn't pay any attention to the other kids in class. he was well aware the were gossiping about him anyway. he snapped out of his daze as his friends walked in, giving them tired half-smiles and small nods. then donghyuck walked in and mark's head snapped to him. donghyuck met his eyes and they both stared at each other for a split second. mark saw him swallow before they both looked away.
"alright class," taeyong smiled. "i'm sure you're all aware that you're going to be assigned a large project?"
the class groaned in response. taeyong waved his hand, feigning annoyance. "okay class. you guys will finally be asking the question you've thought of over the year and answering. it'll be an essay, and it'll be due next friday at the end of class. because i'm assigning you this on a wednesday, you guys get eleven days to work on it."
the rest of the period was a blur of students discussing what to do, looking through books, and quiet conversations. mark was out the door as soon as the bell rang, shoving past the sea of students in the hallway. it was a hard decision, the thought that's been haunting him ever since the school trip. he'd been debating over it for a while, but he's sure he knows what he wants. it would be simple, really. his father's a police officer after all. one gunshot and all of his problems would go away. it's easy to drown in an angry ocean anyway.
his steps slow as he approaches his house, heart heavy. he's learned how to avoid his father. his shifts last from eight to nine, and sometimes he drops by his house. when mark is home, he busies himself in his room. unfortunately, that's kind of impossible because of the water damage. he laughs softly, remembering his friends' conversations about getting the others back. he has no idea if they would've gone through with it. maybe he even had a life full of joy ahead of him.
mark walks past his room, trudging up the stairs. he sucks in a breath as he enters his father's room. he never goes in here. his stomach turns as he looks at the bed. he looks away quickly. it's pretty easy to find his father's gun, hiding behind a few of his mother's books on the small shelf. mark remembers reading through them, fully absorbed into his mother's notes and annotations. he even added tiny notes of his own. he always wanted to write. maybe he'd have been an author or a lyricist like he told the others. he pulls the hand gun out, turning it over in his hands. he remembers him and taeyong learning how to use them back in canada. he holds his breath. now or never.
