"I have already fallen hard and deep.Now there is no turning back. Not at this point" he clenched his fists.His eyes welled up with tears, displaying a mixture of anger and pain.
"I won't ever forget you. And I'll never let you forget me! Mark my wo...
With tears lathering his eyes, Jungkook stepped out of the Psychiatric ward. His cheek still stinging with the red hand print latched against its soft skin. But what stung him the most was her words.
'I hate you. I hate you to death.'
Her voice seething loathe boomed in his skull, weighing his head, wrecking his nerves.
"It's okay..it's okay..she didn't mean it.."
Jungkook began to chant the same old consoling words to himself, like always.
But the pain still remained, spreading from one part of his brain to the other, making him lose his mind. Soon, disturbingly unpleasant and impulsive thoughts began to clog him up, the same impulsive thoughts which always helped him ease the pain temporarily.
He immediately fished out his black ink pin from his pocket, taking off its cap he instantly stabbed it into his thigh without no trace of hesitation.
"Haa..." he exhaled in solace, closing his eyes, feeling the sharp metal nib piercing into his flesh.
He pulled it out and thrusted it again to his thigh, way too down this time. He felt the warm blood oozing out the small wound, soaking into his black jeans. The metallic odour of the blood already presenting him a sense of relief, urging him to repeat the action again, which he sure would have, but....
'Don't mess-up things. And do come back alive in one piece.'
Jimin's words rang in his head like loud sirens.
He eyes quickly flickered open as the ink pen dropped from his hand.
"Shit." he kicked it away, realising what he was doing. Or what he was about to do further.
"Damn it." he pulled out his grey kerchief, dabbing it against his slightly injured thigh. The next thing he did was forage through his college bag resting on his motorbike, looking for his pills.
"F*cking great." he hissed, finding nothing more an empty strip of the tablets.
'I hate you. I hate you to death.'
The pain began to surge again through the one point of his brain to the other. So did the impulsive thoughts.
'I hate you to death.'
"Stop! Please..." he leaned down to his bike for support, squeezing his eyes shut.
"Jimin...I need Jimin..."
He mumbled shiveringly, fingers beginning to fumble through his pockets, searching for his cell phone to dial his friend while his gaze stumbled into his bike seat, accidentally landing on the sketch book inside his bag left open.
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