PJM ONESHOTS

a_little_more_time.mp3

A_little_more_time.mp3

Warning: mention of war, politics, sad, suicides, world ending, dystopian future, world war count (VI), distant dystopian future (2089) 

WC | 1.9K 

SAD ENDING 

The man looks at the half–burnt recorder on the table, the house was completely burned down to ashes in the 2089 VI World War, it's 2199, it's been a hundred and ten years since then. The excavators dug this recorder out last week, the audio was fine, they said. He gulps the thick lump forming in his throat and clicks it on, the soft yet fluctuating voice of a young man—identified as Jimin, flows out. His lean long fingers drum on the table, his eyes absentmindedly staring at the papers piled on the table, the empty space left for the name of the audio. He revisits the tragedy, the only evidence remaining:

"Dear Ji-Won,

Your eyes lifted up, and gazed at me, we shared a few giggles and laughters, you came home at 4 pm, and we lounged on the couch, laughter spinning out in few loud decibels, you rested there, a few bottles of ginger ale and food, we had dressed up in style, not hoodies and pyjamas, suits and overpriced coats, warm food and blazing television playing things we never really wanted to watch. The video recorder recorded these weird little footages, of two lovers, lounging on the couch with no care in the world, my mother called, your mother called, we shared a few tears, we shared grief. We were all going to die anyway.

Who cares if it is a little early?

As long as you are beside me, holding my hand and being my leman, I would be forever yours, bound by death, bound by life. We just needed a little more time, just a few more hours. But every second with you is just as precious. I'm saying stupid words into this recorder, too big, and too small, all of this is going to be destroyed anyway, why waste time? Death is on our front door, knocking, and knocking. The scythe was at our necks, but I wasn't afraid. As long as you are there, beside me. The world blew up in horror, televisions screaming, the outdoors yelling, children held on to their mothers, asking them to give back their daydreams and nicenights. That they had a future. Futile. We all are. We all were.

Love, sweet, sweet, sweet love, I have been reminded of you in everything, everywhere and always, and that I now lie beside you on this couch, holding your hand, we're cuddled on the couch, until, until the world caves in. I will be with you, I will walk with you through hell and back and forever, forever we will be together, I will stand by you in the fiery pits of hell and I would fall from grace to be with you. My leman, my sweet love, all that I wish is that we had just a little more time. A few more seconds, a few more hours. But how many? How many until I feel full? How many hours must pass by until I feel it is best enough to leave this world? How many hours until the room around us will be blazing, will it be in fiery pits? Will it hurt? I hope it doesn't. But I'm willing to be in agony if with you, for you, are my own personal heaven. So let this atom bomb lock in, let the world burn to chaos, I won't be sad. I have you. Love, I love you. As the world caves in, you're the one that I lie with, my love and my life.

The papers highlight in red letters, big and huge, vulgar words against the government, ah, we seem to have none. They've all fled, as if there is another world waiting for those who have power and money, politics means nothing, people ravish on each other, everyone is screaming, everyone is crying, the world is ending. The atom bombs rain on us. We're all dying. We would have died anyway. There's nowhere to flee. Death has made people a little kinder, they've called their enemies, crying their heart out in apologies. Of course, wasn't that what she said, Anne Frank, that child, that dead people receive more flowers than living people because regret is stronger than gratitude. You're placing pecks and kisses, your eyes are dull, I want to brighten it up, but I can't. I tell you we are dying together, that we will meet all of us again, because reincarnation was something I believed in. tears fall from your eyes as you lie against me, you smile bitterly, you slowly mutter:"death is suddenly so close..", but darling light, my firefly, death has always been close, so close, that the cold fingers have always been around us, in the next neighbourhood, in your class, in your home, in your life, in your friend's life, in your friend's friend's friend's life, so beautiful but so cruel, so many ways to die, yet so few to live.