You never liked crowded places. You felt suffocation crawling through your veins everyday when you had to go to your workplace.
So when you decided to finally get yourself a scheduled place far away from the town, somewhere in the woods, you came u...
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Your pov:
Days turned into nights, and my obsession with Jungkook deepened. I found myself waking in the middle of the night, compelled to write or sketch, to connect the dots of a life I had never lived but felt so intimately tied to.
The cabin was transforming me, urging me to delve into its dark history, as if it wanted to share its burdens with someone willing to listen.
I spent my afternoons immersed in Jungkook’s journal, poring over his thoughts and feelings, feeling the weight of his sorrow seep into my own heart. He wrote about the loss of his family—his mother, father, and a sister he adored. Each entry reflected a descent into despair, filled with descriptions of his grief and the lengths he would go to reclaim his loved ones.
The ink was sometimes smudged, as though his tears had mingled with the pages, adding another layer of sorrow to his words.
One passage struck me deeply:
“ There must be a way to bridge the gap between life and death. I can feel them. They linger just beyond my reach, their voices calling in the silence. I will find them again.”
The obsession grew palpable; it felt as if Jungkook’s spirit was reaching out to me, urging me to understand.
I began to imagine what it would be like to confront him, to ask him questions that had haunted him in life. My mind was swirling with ideas when I decided to return to the attic and confront the remnants of his existence, because that's where his existence was most alive.... that's where his heart was...
That evening, the air felt charged as I ascended the creaky stairs once more. I lit candles and arranged them around the attic, creating a makeshift altar of sorts. The flickering flames cast eerie shadows that danced across the walls, enhancing the haunting atmosphere.
I placed Jungkook’s journal at the center and began to read aloud from it, my voice echoing in the stillness.
As I recited his words, I felt a chill wash over me. The heartbeat pulsed rhythmically in the background, creating a melody that resonated with the very fabric of the cabin. I paused, allowing the silence to settle, feeling as though I was not alone.
“Jungkook,” I whispered, the name rolling off my tongue like a prayer. “I want to help you. I want to understand.”
Suddenly, a breeze swept through the attic, extinguishing the candles in an instant. Darkness enveloped me, and I felt a presence brush past. My breath got caught in my throat as the heartbeat intensified, echoing in my ears.
“ Did you intend to summon me ?” a voice whispered, low and melancholic, as if it were carried by the wind itself.
" Or maybe just a mean for entertaining yourself?"
“Who—who are you?” I stammered, heart racing.
“I am the echo of what once was,” the voice replied, a sorrowful undertone weaving through its words. “You have disturbed my rest. Why do you seek me?”
“I seek to understand your pain,” I said, fighting the fear rising within me. “I want to help you find peace.”
“Peace?” he exclaimed, the tone dripping with irony and a hint of something unknown. The heartbeat thrummed a loud beat, making the floors vibrate.
I gulped hearing his question.
“What do you know of peace?”
“ I am bound by my choices, and the scars of the past are etched into the very wood of this cabin, just like me.”
