Slave to the Scale

Chapter 41

warning: throwing up, mentions of suicide, yeah

Damn, Jin seemed to have picked up more of the swears nowadays. The only words he could think of were swears.

Two weeks after the attempted overdose, he was starting to feel a whole lot more like himself. The pain had fallen away to only a slight discomfort around his waist and he no longer felt like throwing up every five seconds. He was being forced to eat too. The nurses used to force him to at the hospital and the members forced him to at home.

Just like it had always been.

He wondered if he was supposed to be sad. He had gone through so much trouble to do all this and he was back to square one. It was like a game of snakes and ladders. Jin had climbed up so many ladders, but slid down a snake that he never noticed. He was just tired. Despite feeling a lot better now, he couldn't eat much. He couldn't handle anything too heavy. The exhaustion was worse now. He couldn't walk very far on his own, someone had to hold on to his waist and help him around. Each time he took a breath, it felt like he had finished running a marathon.

The past two weeks had been hell on earth.

He wasn't ready for the next twelve months to be as well.

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Jin's face was sweaty. His eyes were shut tightly. The blanket was pulled up to his chin, but the collar of his hospital gown peeked through. Stained vomit had ruined the light blue colour.

Jimin sighed. He knew it was wrong of him to think like this, but Jin looked pathetic. What the heck had he been thinking when he took all that Tylenol? That this was some genius plan? That this was something that he could be proud of in the future? Jimin knew it was wrong.

It was wrong to think this too, but Jimin couldn't imagine Jin ever becoming like his old self again. With every passing event, Jimin slowly lost hope. There was too much going on.

The nurse nodded to him before leaving.

Jimin pulled up a chair next to Jin's bedside. He pulled out his phone to shoot Jungkook a quick text and then grasped Jin's hand tightly.

Jin didn't stir.

Jimin ran his free hand through Jin's hair, wincing when he felt how greasy and sweaty it was. A few strands came out in his hands. Jin's lips were pulled into a frown. He used to be very paranoid about the way his hair looked. He probably still was.

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Another fight? Jin could practically smell it in the air. Both Taehyung and Hoseok sat next to him, but the two barely interacted with each other.

Hoseok was more animated than usual. Silly stories, silly voices, everything that could possibly make Jin crack the smallest smile came out of his mouth. Jin could barely breathe without feeling his breakfast come up his throat. And every few minutes, he was being forced to bend over at the waist so he could even try and tough out the pain circling through his stomach.

Forget smiling. He could only manage a few pathetic sobs every once in a while. Taehyung would always pat his head when he did that. Hoseok would only sit there awkwardly.

It was so awkward. Everything was so awkward. He was so awkward.

He really did regret this. He really should've fought with that stupid old lady at the bridge. Jin really should've done something quicker than just hoping that a few painkillers would kill him.

"Everything will be okay..." Hoseok sang.

He sounded like a cheesy bank commercial. Jin silently wished for him to shut his mouth and go home.