The House

Lonely

       With a heavy heart and trembling fingers, I scrolled through the messages from Jimin, each one a lifeline in the sea of despair that threatened to drown me. His words, filled with concern and kindness, pierced through the numbness that had settled over me. I read them again, allowing the weight of his offer to sink in.

"Hey Jin, I'm really worried about you. You haven't been to school in weeks, and no one's heard from you. Please, text me back or let me come by and see you. I miss you, man. We all do."

      Tears blurred my vision as I absorbed the depth of Jimin's concern. Despite my stubborn silence and withdrawal, he hadn't given up on me. He still cared, still saw me as someone worth reaching out to, even in my darkest hour of need.

      A surge of conflicting emotions washed over me—gratitude for Jimin's unwavering friendship, shame for pushing him away, and a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, I wasn't completely alone in this world.

      But alongside those emotions, a nagging doubt crept in. Could I burden Jimin with the mess of my life? Would he understand the depths of my despair, the shame of my circumstances? Fear tightened its grip on my chest, threatening to suffocate any semblance of courage I had left.

      Exhausted and overwhelmed, I slipped my phone back into my pocket and stumbled back onto the streets, my vision blurred by tears and fatigue. The city around me moved in a blur of activity, a stark contrast to the void that consumed me. People brushed past me, their faces a blur, their voices indistinct murmurs in the background.

      I wandered aimlessly, the cold biting into my skin and the hunger gnawing at my insides. Every step felt like a monumental effort, my legs heavy and uncooperative. My head swam with dizziness, and I bumped into people, eliciting angry mutters and annoyed glares.

"Watch where you're going!" someone snapped as I stumbled into them, barely managing to stay on my feet.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, my voice barely audible above the noise of the city. But my apologies fell on deaf ears, swallowed by the indifference of the crowd.

      I felt like a ghost, drifting through a world that had no place for me. The weight of my loneliness and despair pressed down on me, suffocating and relentless. Each step felt like it brought me closer to the edge, to the point where I couldn't see any reason to keep going.

      The hunger clawed at my stomach, a constant reminder of my body's desperate need for sustenance. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, golden glow over the city that belied the chill in the air. I had lost all track of time. Didn't it just turn morning? My body ached with exhaustion and hunger as I stumbled along the sidewalk, the weight of my tattered world pressing down on me. Each step was a monumental effort, my legs heavy and uncooperative. The pangs of hunger clawed at my stomach, a relentless reminder of my desperation.

      As I turned a corner, the scent of freshly baked bread hit me like a wave, momentarily overpowering the gnawing emptiness inside me. My mouth watered uncontrollably, and I followed the irresistible aroma to its source: a small, quaint bakery nestled between towering buildings. The definition of a hole in the wall place, small enough to miss it if you wasn't paying attention. The warm light spilling out from the bakery's windows created a cozy contrast to the cold, indifferent city outside.

      I approached the bakery, my eyes fixated on the array of pastries and bread displayed behind the glass. My stomach growled loudly as I pressed my face against the window, the cold glass biting into my skin. My breath fogged up the window, but I didn't care. All I could think about was the food tantalizingly close yet impossibly out of reach.