•----~Taehyung~----•
If you heard what he'd done from a
witness's point of view, you'd call him a monster.
Drinking. Drugs. Vandalism. Murder.
An absolute monster, right?
-----------------------------------------------------
This could possibly be the worst situation he's ever been in.
And damn did Tae feel alive.
The rush it gave him running from the cops. It couldn't be matched with anything else. The constant risk of being caught. The feeling of being on edge. He loved it.
It was an itch that could only be scratched by making things worse. Every crime he committed needed to be worse than the last or else it wouldn't be the same. He needed his blood to pump so loud he heard it in his ears like ocean waves. The ocean waves that used to soothe him.
He would sit and watch the sunset, making an orange glow along the water. His friends on either side of him exchanging laughs and dumb expressions. The tide slowly washing in and splashing at his feet. Little things that used to make him happy. He missed those times. They were so simple. Now everything needed to be complex. complex. complex.
He remembers his friends waving for him to come down from the top of the bridge while they sat at the shoreline looking up at him. Tae only shot them a smile. They all knew he was crazy enough to jump.
And he did.
He can't remember why.
He can't remember what they were saying to him from down below. His pulse only muffled their voices. His pulse mimicked the ocean. Maybe that's how it started. The itching, scratching feeling for an absolute rush.
The only thing he remembered was the stun of the cold water enveloping him, and then, nothing.
Taehyung would wait until only the street lights gave him a clear view of his surroundings. The dark buildings intimidating him with every street he turned on. He had a tattered backpack slung over his shoulder filled to the brim with half empty cans of paint. Bright paint. Like the ocean and the sunset it reflected. Reds, blues, greens. Every blank, dull wall needed to be colored. It needed to be like the ocean so the buildings wouldn't be so intimidating anymore, and he would be reminded of the same rush his friends gave him back at the beach.
He took his time spraying shapes and outlines of whatever floated into his mind, and then he'd take out a screwdriver from his bag and pick away. Words. Images. It didn't matter. He'd scratch at the paint almost mindlessly, listening to the blood pump in his ears, relieving the itch inside of him until he heard the cops, and run. But this time, he just let it happen. He lost all the motivation to run.
Tae felt a flashlight being shined on him, and muffled chatter. He put his hands up and turned around towards the police car. Tae felt himself being grabbed by the collar and pinned into the wall behind him. He could only give a grin as he was man handled into the backseat and driven off, the rush slowly subsiding until he felt the itch again, and the ocean was gone.
