he came like a whisper
left like a dream
nothing to prove he had ever been.
but the tears in the other boy's eyes
and his trembling lips
are the witness of his first kiss,
his first love,
and his very first heartbreak.
nothing felt good after that,
...
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Taehyung hates the color black.
The suit, the shoes, the dress she's wearing, the coffin, and the umbrellas shielding them from the darkened sky as it releases heavy buckets of rain, soaking the earth. It's all black. A void. Like how he feels inside.
The preacher speaks but he doesn't hear him. He doesn't hear much of anything. Only his father's words playing on repeat in his head like a broken record.
She's gone.
It still doesn't feel real. None of this does. He keeps thinking he'll wake up from this nightmare, happily tucked away in Jungkook's bed. God, happy? he was. Just days ago. Yet, now it feels like he had never known happiness before. The feelings he had were snuffed out like a burnt candle.
He pinches the skin of his wrist, hoping it'll snap him awake and pull him from the fog and despair that's wrapped itself around him. He presses and digs, hoping to gasp from the pain. It doesn't work though. Retracting his nails, he looks down with a frown when he spots the droplets of blood at the surface of his skin.
Why didn't it hurt? It should be stinging and burning as it gets hit by the rain.
But he feels numb. His head, his heart, his skin, everything... The blood mixing with water and dropping to the grass below is the only sign he's still alive at all. Still here, still breathing, even though his mom no longer is.
His throat tightens, and he fights the urge to fall to his knees and vomit in the grass. His fingers tremble and he tucks them into his pants pockets, not wanting anyone else to see. It's cold out. On top of the rain and his now-soaking shoes, he's sure to be sick after this, but it doesn't matter. He is sure nothing will ever matter again.
The preacher tells them to bow their heads for prayer and he feel resistant, not wanting to pray to a God who could take away his mom.
What kind of God lets a drunk driver walk away without so much as a scratch but takes the life of an innocent?
A God Taehyung wants no part of.
Jutting out his lip in defiance, he stares straight ahead at the mounds of dirt behind the coffin, knowing they'll be one again with the earth before too long and blanketing the place where his mother's body will rest forever.
Back at the funeral home, she looked so beautiful. Her hair was lightly curled and her face had the barest hint of makeup like how she usually wore it. If he didn't knew any better he would have thought she was just sleeping, and if he closed his eyes he can almost imagine she was. Fuck, this hurts. It's like his organs are being ripped from his body.
He just wished he could go back in time and hear her voice, get a late-night text after a concert she just finished, feel her arms around him, or the brush of her fingers through his hair. Things he took for granted that he's so desperate for now.
