The Stigma of a Butterfly

Part II

•°Give me therapy, I am a walking travesty but I am smiling at everything•°

The sun was rising.

It was a new day.

A new day, a new 24 hours.

But that didn't necessarily mean that you could erase your past.

I sat on the dirt with my back against the wall in a dim alleyway.

My hands were covered in blood and some of it had already dried.

Appa's blood.

Noona's blood.

I opened the plastic water bottle beside me and washed off the blood from my hands and the bloodstains from my hoodie.

My hands were shaking the entire time. I took out my phone and tried calling Namjoon hyung.

But no one picked up.

I called again; and on the second ring, the call was rejected.

"Hyung please pick up... I need you hyung.. I need you" I whispered at the phone.

But in vain.

I tried calling the others as well.

Again, no one received the damned call.

Did they know?

Did they already know?

Did they already know of my heinous crimes?

I had killed my own father, and watched when he abused my sister.

I had committed great sins.

But was I beyond saving?

Could I not be punished for my sins?

Could I not be forgiven for my sins?

I wanted to be forgiven.. I really did.