One More Light ( ON HOLD )

ᵂʰᵒ ᶜᵃʳᵉˢ ᴵᶠ ᴼⁿᵉ ᴹᵒʳᵉ ᴸⁱᵍʰᵗ ᴳᵒᵉˢ ᴼᵘᵗ?

I do.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

He's falling. Deep. He tried his best to get out of it. But funny how easily people push him back. He tried asking for help. People push him away. He seek for help. He want to be notice, he want someone to see through him. He want someone to see through his fake smile. His bloody painful laugh and smile. It all when to vain.

He stopped. He stopped asking for help. He stopped asking for people to see through him. He shut it. He continues his daily life with his bloody hurt self walking around with his dazzling smile and beautiful laugh they've said.

He's tired. The thoughts of ending it is all he could think off and sadly it's seems like it was normal for him to have that kind of thought even though he knows how toxic and unhealthy it is. He want help. He needs help. But he's just way to tired to ask for it. Asking for help shouldn't be this painful to ask yet it's like he's putting a slice of lemon on his wound when ever be tried to ask for help.

He want to end his misery. He want to end his pain but why would he? So what if he died. People would eventually move on and continue with their life but he would definitely scars his family. He knows it would hurt his family. Especially his sister.

It's selfish of him to do so. His sister who's always tried her best. He could never want to bring pain to her. And with that he fight his nightmare all alone. It's dark and shallow. Mostly it scared him to death.

But that don't stop him. Life goes on. With him covering his pain harshly. He neglect himself. He ignored all the red flag raising. He ignored it all.

But deep inside he still have a little a bit of hope shining dimly in the dark. He hope.

The sound of alarm ringing from the phone that is vibrating. Finally aside from his heavy breathing another sound bloomed inside his dark room. Groaning the boy sit up on his bed, shut off his phone before he sway his way to the bathroom.

Kong was not a kitchen type of guy sure he can be one only if you want to spend the rest of your day bedridden at the hospital.

He take his short shower trip, towel still wrapped around his waist and he start to clean his room. Tidying up his bed, picking up the notes scattered across the room, swing open his curtain, stacking his books in his bag and lastly his clothes.

Done with all that he went to the bathroom for the last time to wash his face again. Wiping the last drop of water he slipped his white t-shirt on together with a black slack and lastly his necktie.

Pushing his hair back with his finger styling it a bit, grabbed his bag and he's ready to go.

Door locked. Bag sling on his shoulder. He walked his way to the stall near his dorm and bought a cup of ice coffee.

Kongpob Suthiluck. A dream guy they say. Perfect white teeth. Perfect body figure. Killer smile. Beautiful laugh. Very polite. Very kind. Patience. Gentlemen. The Mister Too Good Too Be True.

Atleast that's what people thought of him.

Just because he flash his smile here and there. Reach out his hand to anyone who ask for help. And laugh. Being the therapist for others.

That doesn't mean he was okay. That doesn't mean he was fine. He's not fine. All he want was someone to tell him it's okay to cry, the storm will go. Tell him that someone is there for him. A shoulder to cry on. Is that to much to ask?

"Kongpob! There you are, I thought you're gonna be late" Aim. His childhood friend.

"Kong? Late? Yeah right" Prae with her eyes rolling. His new found friend.