Stigma | Jikook + Harry Potter AU

Prologue

....

Hate is a poisonous feeling. It builds up and up inside of you until you're neck deep with no way out. But self hate... self hate is the downfall of all things beautiful. It is a bitterness that slowly eats away at your insides, twists your heart painfully, and eventually, eventually you're left hollow, free of self preservation.

They say that depression is a sickness of the mind, a chemical imbalance in your brain that tricks you into sadness. Is that true? Is it true that people can't feel anything without a psychological or scientific explanation? Death is a natural part of life, of all things.

Whether it be a self inflicted tragedy, or a torturous accident... Somebody is always left behind.

Jimin's inquisitive coffee brown eyes were alight with fascination at the picture book he had held in his small, chubby hands, completely intrigued by the bright coloured shapes on the glossy paper. It was all so interesting to his five year old self.

He ran a tiny index finger along the shape of a purple diamond printed on the glossy paper, tracing the outline of its sides carefully, slowly, as if his life depended on it. The fruit his mother prepared for him only only thirty minutes ago sat neglected by his side, bites taken out of various pieces, his little hands sticky from the healthy snack, which of course didn't stop him from dirtying the page with his grubby paws.

And then just like that, Jimin froze, eyes widening. He quickly leaned in, pushing his face frantically close to the book's contents, pupils expanding in horror.

What shape is this? The five year old's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, his little crooked teeth biting down nervously into his plump bottom lip. He had never seen this shape before! Just to be sure, he counted the sides. "One, two, three, four-" he trailed off. "Eight sides?!" The toddler gasped out in awe while slamming the book closed. He had to ask his mum what this new shape was called!

"Mummy!" Jimin shouted out obnoxiously as he unsteadily pulled himself up, the book clutched to his chest like a precious possession of great worth, securely wrapped in both arms. He knew that his mother was usually having a nap by now, she always took her special sleeping tablet the same time everyday.

Shuffling across the carpeted floor proved to be a struggle for Jimin, the large book being heavy in his small arms. He stumbled multiple times before making it to the door of his parent's room. Of course it was more like mummy's room; daddy was never home to nap with her.

Jimin managed to hold the large book in one arm, 'ouching' to himself a few times because the corner of the book jabbed him, but he was a strong boy. So he disregarded the pain and twisted the doorknob open nonetheless.

He didn't expect to see his mother's bed empty when he opened the door.

The five year old became immediately confused, as his mum was always asleep in bed this time of day. A weird smell was lingering in the air, and Jimin sniffed again, his button nose recoiling in disgust at the overwhelming scent.

He didn't know where the distinct smell was coming from, until he looked to the nightstand next to the bed. A long necked glass bottle sat open atop the wooden surface, it had a red lid and a large sticker on the front that read a word he was too young to understand at the time. But there was one thing that toddler Jimin did understand. He needed to find his mother.

"Mummy?" The five year old tried again, voice more frantic and longing this time, but still... he was met with an eery silence.

The picture book that had been in Jimin's arms so preciously minutes ago was long forgotten on the floor by the time he decided to see if his mother was in the ensuite bathroom.