Cell No. 9 | TaeKook

2 | Lifeless.

The police officer shoved Taehyung into the cell with a rough push. Clad in an orange jumpsuit and clutching the small basket of basic supplies they had given him, Taehyung stumbled forward, his legs barely supporting him.

His face was ashen, and his eyes, once vibrant, were now hollow and lifeless. The fluorescent lights overhead cast a harsh glare, deepening the shadows under his eyes and accentuating the exhaustion etched into his features.

The other prisoners in the cell—a tall, muscular man with tattoos snaking up his arms, a wiry fellow with a shifty gaze, and a quiet, older man with graying hair—looked up as he entered.

Except the muscular man who looked back at his book, their eyes followed him with a mix of curiosity and wariness, but Taehyung barely registered their presence. The police officer locked the door with a metallic clang that echoed through the small space, then walked away, leaving Taehyung to face his new reality.

Ignoring the prisoners' watchful gazes, Taehyung moved to the far corner of the cell. His movements were slow, almost robotic, as if he were detached from his own body. He sat on the cold, hard floor and placed the basket beside him. The cell's chill seeped into his bones, but he barely felt it. His mind was numb, overwhelmed by the sheer weight of his circumstances.

He lay there, unmoving, like a living corpse. His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, but he showed no other signs of life. His eyes stared blankly ahead, unfocused and empty. No tears fell, no sobs escaped his lips. He was beyond crying, beyond feeling; he was simply existing in a state of shock and despair.

His skin was pale and clammy, and his body seemed to have lost all its vitality. The sharp angles of his cheekbones and jawline stood out starkly, as if his flesh were retreating from his bones. His once expressive eyes were now vacant, devoid of any light or emotion. He was a ghost of the person he had been, a mere shell left in the wake of the tragedy that had upended his life.

The two prisoners continued to watch him, their initial apprehension giving way to a grudging sense of pity. They had seen many newcomers over the years, but something about Taehyung's utter desolation struck a chord. He was not like the others who came in angry, defiant, or terrified. He was beyond all that, locked in a silent torment that left him oblivious to everything around him.

For Taehyung, the cell walls were not just physical barriers; they were the confines of his shattered world. The reality of his parents' death, his conviction, and the life sentence weighed heavily on him, pressing down until he felt he could no longer breathe. As he lay there, numb and broken, the only thing that seemed real was the darkness closing in around him.

The old man spoke, his voice rough but kind. "Hey, kid! What's your name?"

Taehyung didn't seem to pay attention, his mind far away from his surroundings.

The old man tried again. "I'm Daejung," he said, pointing to the wiry man beside him. "This is Chulsoo."

He then pointed to the muscular man with a dangerous aura and continued, "And this... well, his name is Jungkook, but you don't have to know him. How about you?"

Taehyung remained silent, his gaze fixed on some indeterminate spot on the floor. Chulsoo laughed mockingly. "Are you talking to yourself, old man? Look at him. He doesn't even listen to you." He sneered, adding with cruel humor, "I bet his parents threw him in jail because they couldn't stand him."

Daejung's face hardened. He grabbed a book beside him and smacked Chulsoo on the head. "Shut your mouth."

Chulsoo clutched his head, wincing in pain. "It hurts!"

"Because you don't know when to stop talking, you little—"

"Shut up!" A sharp yell echoed through the cell, cutting Daejung off mid-sentence.

The muscular man, Jungkook, looked up from his book, his eyes cold and firm. His face was chiseled, with a strong jaw and piercing eyes that could cut through steel. Tattoos snaked up his arms, disappearing under the sleeves of his jumpsuit. He had an aura of controlled menace, like a coiled spring ready to unleash its power.

"Don't you see that I'm reading?" Jungkook said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Daejung and Chulsoo fell silent, their earlier squabble forgotten. The cell was filled with an oppressive quiet, broken only by the sound of Jungkook turning a page in his book. Taehyung remained in his corner, a ghost among the living, untouched by the brief drama that had unfolded around him.

As the sun went down and shadows deepened in the cell, it was time for dinner. Daejung and Chulsoo moved to the small window beside the door to receive the food trays. Chulsoo, eager and hungry, took his plate and placed it on the table before sitting on the floor and digging in.

Daejung carefully brought the other plates to the table. Jungkook set his book aside and joined them, taking his usual spot. The three men sat around the table, but Taehyung remained in his corner, unmoved and silent.

Daejung glanced over at him, concern etched on his face. "You won't eat? You'll die like this," he said, his voice gentle yet firm.

Taehyung didn't react or answer, his gaze still distant and unfocused. Daejung sighed, the weight of the young man's despair pressing heavily on him. He turned back to his food, eating quietly, the atmosphere somber as the small cell settled into an uneasy silence.

As they were eating, a sudden breaking sound shattered the relative quiet of the cell. All three men looked around, but they didn't see anyone at first. Then, they noticed Taehyung was no longer in his corner.

Daejung's eyes darted to the small bathroom area and widened in alarm. Taehyung stood there, a piece of broken glass in his hand. Before Daejung could react, he saw the blood trickling from Taehyung's wrist and head, evidence of where he had struck the mirror.

"Are you crazy?" Daejung exclaimed, rushing over and snatching the glass from Taehyung's trembling hands.

Chulsoo, hearing the commotion, came over and stared in shock at the sight before him.

Taehyung looked at the blood in his hands, and memories of the horrific day flooded back to him. He saw the blood that had filled the ground, his parents' lifeless bodies, and their vacant eyes staring into nothingness. His breathing quickened, his hands shook uncontrollably, and his eyes turned red as tears began to well up.

"Hey, hey! Look at me," Daejung said urgently, gripping Taehyung's shoulders and shaking him.

Taehyung's eyes finally focused on the old man, but his vision was spinning. The room blurred and he felt himself losing balance, the world tilting around him. He collapsed onto the floor, his body limp.

Daejung turned to Chulsoo, his voice frantic. "What are you waiting for? Go call someone!"

Chulsoo snapped out of his shock and rushed to the door, banging on it and shouting, "Anybody here? Help! We need help in here!"

The echoes of Chulsoo's shouts filled the cell block, a desperate plea for assistance as Daejung tried to stem the flow of blood from Taehyung's wrist.

_____

"Mother, father... wait for me. I'll follow you soon. I can't bear this world without you. Every moment here is a torment, and all I want is to be with you again."