The police spent the next hour questioning us, asking questions that felt like knives twisting in the raw, open wounds of our hearts. They wanted to know why. Why did he do it? Why didn't we see the signs? Why did no one say anything? Their questions were relentless, each one another blow to our fragile psyches.
Sunghoon sits in the corner, his hands trembling as he holds a mug of lukewarm coffee. His eyes are distant, staring at a point far beyond the sterile walls of the hospital room. Heeseung stands by the window, his broad shoulders hunched tight. His gaze scans the desolate parking lot outside, searching for an answer that isn't there. Every few seconds, he glances back at us. At me. I suck in a breath every time he does and wonder if he's about to expose my secret. He doesn't.
"Did he tell you anything?" One of the officers asks and I tense, gripping the handle of my oxygen tank so hard my knuckles turn white. 'Anything' feels like a bottomless well they expect me to dredge for answers I don't have. Or maybe I do but I'm just not brave enough to face them.
"He didn't say anything," I mutter, the officer's gaze lingering on me for a while before he nods, jotting something down in his notebook. "But... his mother's boyfriend is abusive. He," I suck in a breath, my voice barely above a whisper. "He abuses him."
The officers exchange a knowing look. One of them sighs, a weary empathy etched on his young face. "We suspected as much. There were signs, bruises we couldn't explain. But we'll do our best to ensure his safety."
A hollow 'thank you' escapes my lips as the officers finally leave, the sterile silence of the room returning even heavier now. Sunghoon remains glued to his corner, his face buried in his hands, the forgotten coffee a puddle of disappointment beside him. Niki and Jay come back with a tray of food and I look at Niki, his eyes breaking my heart in pieces that might not ever be put back together. His eyes are red-rimmed, and puffy, mirroring the devastation etched across his face. He walks to me, sits down on the chair next to mine and signs, "You should eat. You must be hungry."
Eating is the last thing on my mind, but when Niki holds out a spoon of rice to my lips, I open my mouth and let him feed me. The rice is bland, the texture grainy, but it goes down easy and a flicker of warmth ignites in my chest. He smiles faintly, putting a stray strand of my hair behind my ear. "Thank you," I sign, looking down at my hands for a moment before he reaches out to hold them, intertwining our fingers like fragile threads of hope in the darkness.
I look up, our eyes locking, and it takes everything in me to stop myself from breaking down. I'm dying and I can't tell him. My lungs are betraying me, slowly suffocating me from the inside out, and the guilt threatens to drown me whole. But how can I burden him with this now, when everything else seems to be crumbling around us?
From the corner of my eye, Jay sits next to Sunghoon, taking out his blood sugar monitor before he pokes his finger with a gentle prod. We're all messed up. We're all carrying scars, both visible and invisible. In this broken world, we're a tangled mess of vulnerabilities, clinging to each other for support.
"He's up—" Sunghoon's voice breaks the tense silence and we're all suddenly on our feet, hearts pounding in unison as we rush towards the sound of the beeping heart monitor that had abruptly lurched into a frantic rhythm. We reach Jake's bedside in a flurry of tangled limbs and frantic whispers. His eyes flutter open, unfocused and confused.
"Jake," I rasp, reaching out to squeeze his hand. A ghost of a smile tugs at the corners of his lips and he frowns, trying to sit up despite the wires snaking across his chest.
"Y/N?" He croaks, his voice a mere whisper lost in the cacophony of the beeping monitor. Relief washes over me, a wave so powerful it nearly knocks me off my feet. It's Jake. And he's awake. "What... happened?"
Jake has a lot to say, actually. He has a lot to explain about what happened because we all need closure, answers to the questions that have been haunting us since the moment he decided the ocean was more than just water that would swallow him whole, but a way to end his pain. We need to know why he felt so alone, so desperate, that he believed ending his life was the only option left. But as I look into his tired eyes, all those questions stick to my throat and I'm unable to utter a single word.
The urge to reach out, to offer comfort, battles with the knowledge that empty words wouldn't erase the hurt, the fear, the desperation that had driven Jake to the brink. He needs space, time to process the enormity of his actions, the weight of his choices. But Sunghoon doesn't give him that space. "You almost killed yourself," He blurts out, his voice sharp and accusatory. "And for what? Because you were scared? Because you thought running away was easier than facing things?"
His words are harsh, laced with pain and frustration only underscored by the rawness of the situation. We all need answers, but Sunghoon's anger feels like a storm threatening to consume the room, leaving no space for healing or understanding.
"I..." Jake stammers, his fingers tightening into fists, clutching at the scratchy sheets as if they were the only thing keeping him from drifting away. His gaze flickers around the room, his eyes pleading for understanding, for someone to acknowledge the depth of his pain without condemning him further. "I'm sorry. I didn't... I couldn't—" He chokes out, the words a pathetic excuse lost in the white noise of his own despair. And then he stares at his hands before he wipes them on the hospital gown as if trying to erase the shame that clings to his skin.
"For fuck's sake, Jake, will you please just stay with us and fight? Fight for yourself, fight for me, for everyone who cares about you? Don't you see the wreckage you leave behind when you try to disappear?" Sunghoon's outburst hangs heavily in the air, his anger morphing into a raw, vulnerable fear. The fear of losing Jake, the fear of not being able to pull him back from the precipice.
Jay's phone starts ringing and it's what makes me tear my gaze away from Jake and turn to Jay as he picks up. It could be anyone—a friend, family, even a wrong number. But for some reason, it makes my heart beat faster and my gut clench with a different kind of anxiety.
"Hello?" He answers, his voice guarded as he listens intently to whoever it is on the other line. We wait, watching as his brows furrow and his eyes widen, shock registering in his expression. We hold our breaths when he hangs up, his arm dropping limply to his side. The phone clatters to the floor with a hollow thud, echoing in the sterile silence of the room. His gaze darts from the fallen phone to Jake, horror blooming in his eyes.
"Your mother's boyfriend," He chokes out, struggling to find the words while his hands shake as he gestures frantically. "He was found dead."
YOU ARE READING
✓ BECAUSE WE WERE YOUNG | NIKI
फैनफिक्शन❝We're so young but we're on the road of ruin.❞
