Falling Tears

Chapter 57

                 

A/N: Please make my dark autumn days brighter with votes and comments <3

Jimin's POV

After I heard Jungkook knock on Sumin's door, I let my back hit the mattress. For a minute I just laid there in complete bliss. It felt like this was what life was supposed to be: me and Jungkook, happily together, eating breakfast in bed on a Saturday morning. Wasn't that what everyone tried to find in life? And the way his eyes kept staring at me, his bunny smile shining when I smiled or said something funny or made a face. How his hands touched me like they'd never get tired.

It was an amazing feeling. My body felt relaxed and so did my mind, even for a second. I sighed happily at my white ceiling and thought that when Jungkook and I moved out, our ceiling wasn't going to be white. Even if the walls were white, our ceiling wouldn't be. On walls you could hang pictures to bring life against the sick white color that was too clean in my opinion. Ceiling had nothing.

Maybe our ceiling would be orange. Not bright orange, not the one that would hurt your eyes every morning, but the kind of orange that was cozy and warm in a way that it reminded you of sunsets. And Jungkook liked orange. If I could see him wake up to a color that made him happy every morning, it would make me happy.

My gaze met the dish on the nightstand.

All of these nice things that had made me feel so warm, made me feel really freezing when they all disappeared.

The guilt Jungkook had been able to take away came rushing back so fast it made me feel sick. It had not been part of the plan to eat. I should not have eaten. I was never supposed to eat!

This is why you're still fat, a voice in my head reminded me. I just nodded along. Of course it was right. If I could control myself, I'd be skinny. But I couldn't. You are never going to be pretty. You won't get to see Jungkook wake up in a room with an orange ceiling every morning because he doesn't want to be with you every morning.

Chim the voice tried to shout that I had eaten less than Jungkook and that I didn't find Jungkook ugly, I found him beautiful.

But it wasn't the same thing. Jungkook was pretty, I wasn't. He didn't need to do what I needed desperately to do to make myself pretty. He had always been pretty, I hadn't.

Then if you so desperately need to change yourself, why can't you do it? Why are you still such an uncontrollable bitch? You just stuff your face in front of your boyfriend and have no intention to make it better?

I jumped off the bed and shook my head. No. Shut up. I took the tray, trying to busy myself so I couldn't hear the voices anymore.

But I did. Of course I did. They shamed me all the way downstairs and to the kitchen, they told me how I was worthless and that Jungkook was with me out of pity. When I got to the sink where I with shaking hands placed the tray with empty plates on it, they told me that I never succeeded in anything.

Empty plates. Mine was too. And I had eaten it by myself. Jungkook had only taken a few pieces.

I groaned and hit my head on the board above the sink. I tried to force the lump in my throat down and the tears in my eyes to back but they didn't. My hand gripped on the sink so hard my knuckles turned white but I didn't care. I hoped it helped to calm down the voices but it didn't. Nothing did.

Tears fell down my cheeks as the weak walls I had built around myself crumbled down. The voices were so loud I lost myself in them, and all I could do was agree with the voices with heavy sobs. I grabbed the first thing my hand made contact with from the sink and started to wash my endless guilt away. One plate. Two plates. Two glasses. A bowl. A spatula. I couldn't count how many things I had grabbed from the side table too, without even knowing if they were dirty or not. I just washed furiously. My head ached, my heart ached, my whole body ached but I couldn't stop.