Night | Minsung

4

As the teacher was teaching whatever history teachers are supposed to teach, Jisung felt a pang of anxiety out of nowhere.

You're not skinny.

You're not smart.

No one likes you.

Cut again.

The room was getting blurry and he couldn't hear things around him properly. He started bouncing his leg up and down but it didn't stop the loud thoughts. Tears stung his eyes and he wanted to crawl out of his own skin.

Minho noticed jisung's leg starting to bounce.

"Are you okay?" He whispered to Jisung.

Jisung didn't answer and instead raised his hand. "Mr. Jang, may I go to the washroom?"

Minho could hear obvious signs of stress in his voice that no one else seemed to notice.

"Yes, Jisung" Mr. Jang answered.

With that Jisung slipped his phone in his pocket and walked, very quickly out of the classroom. He entered the hall and ran to the bathroom.

The hall seemed like a maze. He was running left and right through the corridor, trying not to collapse on the floor to tiredness and trying to keep tears from leaving his eyes until he reached the bathroom. He finally came across the room.

He opened the door and walked passed the urinals to the very end of the hall of stalls.

He locked himself in the very last stall and he leaned his back against the wall, sliding down to the floor. With shaky hands, he reached into his sweater pocket, taking out his phone.

He took off the yellow phone case with hearts on it, revealing his black phone, some cash, and his blade.

He took the blade with his left hand before rolling up his left sleeve with his right hand. He switched the object to his right hand before pressing it against his skin on his left forearm.

What if someone sees it?

He's never cut his arm before. Was he really going to do it?

He was.

He held his breath before dragging the blade across his forearm. He felt euphoric. It was like he was doing it for the first time all over again.

Something about seeing a fresh patch of his skin getting cut made him feel high.

He ghosted the thin peace of metal up his arm and pressed it up to his wrist. He moved it slowly, watching crimson liquid drip down from his arm to the floor. The stinging from the cut was the best part. It was really bad for a bit before it settled down to just small pulses.

Jisung did the action one more time.

Only one more time?

No. He kept doing it until his whole forearm was covered in red lines, all seeping with the same red liquid. He watched for a moment before he snapped back to reality.

What did I just do?!

He quickly stood up to sit on the toilet. He put his cash and his blade back in the yellow case, before sealing it with his phone. He reached for the toilet paper, rolling a large piece before breaking it off to the rest of the roll.

He was wrapping it around his forearm when he heard the door open and a voice from inside the bathroom.

"Jisung?" It was Minho.

Minho's POV

The teacher had finished explaining the new assignment, and let the class get started on it.