Two of You (Vmin)

Burning Paintings. (10)

Admiring someone is completely normal, like staring a perfect painting in your eyes and wanting to reach that standard. We're all blank canvas' when we enter this world, plain and begging to be painted on. To be formed or to be shaped, where in the end a 'perfect' picture is left. However, some are still being painted, still being formed into the perfect picture the world wants to see. Society are the ones that are in charge of painting that blank canvas, the ones who mauver the brushes or pencils into shapes, into words however along the lines, some of us wake up and decide to be in charge of our own masterpiece. But what happens to those who use bright colours, creating their perfect world only to have a smear of black paint ruin it all and simply start again. That's how some feel when parents desire to mould their child into what they see as perfection and when that canvas begins to rot, to fade to simply give up, so does the person. What happens to a painting lost?

It burns.

The petals of the roses that were clasped in my hand hit the floor beneath me, blowing away seconds later into the distance. The new black tombstone collected dust, dirt and loose leaves, his name engraved beautifully in a italic, san serif font along with the dates- 1990- 2016. It's only been a month since he died and still the pain lingers in my chest, hard to swallow the fact that he's actually gone, that I no longer can say I have an older brother who looks out for me, or in fact have someone sane left in my corrupted family.

"How did he die?"

The sudden voice sent a jolt of fear through me, caused me to clasp the handful of picked roses tighter and body to tense up. Looking over to the source of the voice, my eyes landed on a very tall Jungkook staring down at the tombstone my eyes were locked with only second prior. He wore tight ripped jeans that perfectly hugged his toned legs, a black t-shirt that was tucked into those jeans in a sloppy manner, shades sitting on his tamed hair.

Taking in a sigh, I averted my gaze from him back to the tombstone, answering his question in a low voice, a whisper almost as though I myself didn't want to believe it.

"Suicide."

A soft 'oh' passed his lips, stance, gaze or expression not changing.

"Overdose." I added.

I felt him tense up, breathe in a harsh breath of air before a simple 'sorry' passed his lips. In this moment, I felt the need to ask him why his reaction to such a thing was as it was. Wondering that if someone around him died because of overdose, if someone is suicidal that he cares for or maybe he himself was one who thinks of killing himself. Though I had no right to, my voice didn't want to speak such a question, to ask him something sensitive to him because just like a match to gasoline, everything will light up and burn.

But what he ended up saying, ripping through the silence and my thoughts hurt more than anything. Had warm painful tears form in my eyes, glossing them over along with my whole body simply going numb. Hearing what he said made me want to sink down onto the floor and simply cry because what he mentioned made me feel as though it was my fault and I couldn't help it. Regret and guilt suffocated my chest and fogged up my mind.

"Taehyung overdosed once."

I stayed silent trying to wonder why but I couldn't lie to myself, he was put through so much because of me. The pain in my chest erupted once Jungkook spoke again, voice soft, careful with his words almost in the fear if he spoke too loud or spoke the wrong words, glass would shatter. Treated me a like a fragile object.

"Also tried to jump."

Gaining the courage to look over at the taller boy, I could see he was already looking at me, searching me for emotions that were obviously clear to see.