Hate me. (Minsung)

//23//

"mommy..?" a slight whisper that echoed in the darkness.

the strange, cold, darkness that held no answers to the questions spiraling from it.

where was this?

there was a face of a woman, peering down at the young child who looked at her as if she held all the answers to the universe in her hand.

jisung wanted to reach up and hold it.

but the look on the woman's face didn't allow him to relent. instead, he felt frozen, a cold chill creeping up his spine despite the way he began to sweat.

he was just a kid.

"where are you going..?"

the woman held something tightly in her hand; something dark in the shape of a bottle. that was all that could be made out in the pure darkness after all.

however the one thing jisung could see clearly, was the dead, dark look in her eyes. the eyes that were no longer loving or caring.

they were eyes that didn't hold a concern, nor worry for the well-being of the person in front of them.

they were dead.

her eyes were molded by substance, her expression was revealing it. she was clearly on something.

she wasn't right.

"please.. mom.. just hug me." the feel of acidic agonizing tears filled his vision, his voice sounding more like himself rather than a kid anymore. his heart was beating so loudly in his ears, and his fingers shook.

the woman was moving back despite her feet not moving.

the darkness engulfed her.

"please.." another wobble to his voice. "come back- just love me again." jisung found himself stranded alone in the darkness soon enough, his body feeling heavy and his knees suddenly feeling weak.

he couldn't hold himself up anymore, his body falling and his knees smashing into the hard, black floor beneath him as he heaved. he couldn't breathe.

"i'm hurt mom- i'm starving. please, just hug me-" the words bubbled in his throat, sounding heavy with grief as his forehead met the cold floor.

none of this made sense- until it had jisung sitting up in his bed, covered in a thin layer of sweat and his heart feeling as if it were about to burst.

a dream.

what a terrible dream.

jisung brought his trembling hand to his face, looking at it just to make sure he was alive and awake- breathing and conscious.

his eyes were wet with the tears he had woken up with, and his head hurt in unexplainable ways. he sucked in a sturdy breath of air before wiping his eyes.

his breath left him in shaky waves, as he ran his hands through his hair to try and calm himself down.

it's over. it's done. breathe, you're fine. don't think about it anymore. go back to not thinking about it.

the ringing in his ears didn't help him rid of the pool of torture playing in his mind- the dorm room sounding tauntingly empty as if to remind him that he was going backwards in time.

jisung curled in on himself, his eyes looking over to the nightstand to try and make out the time with his blurry vision, tainted by tears.

he shakily sighed.

he had class in an hour.

~~~

"alright class, welcome back. you all know what to do, back to your previous assignments!" ms. jang pointed her finger up in the air to get her students up and going, attempting to excite them at the same time.