We Run Around With Monsters Under Our Feet [m.y+j.h]

3. TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN,

8:00 and Hoseok had eaten what his parents prepared. He was thankful for the food, as he knew they went all out to cook him his favourite meals. But he didn't like the fact his family spent all out for one meal that in about 12 hours he'd never be able to remember. It was a waste really: not of food- it was really good- but of time.

The boy had a plan for this evening. Sleep was unnecessary tonight so he'd try and maximise his last hours to the furthest extent he possibly could. So he sat at his desk, a firm plastic table he had from the age of 11 with various stickers himself and Jungkook had stuck against the legs, and gently switched on the angle-poised lamp. Rummaging through his draws quietly he brought out a pencil and a notebook that he collected for use at school but never seemed to take with him.

The pages were neatly lined together, their pastel blue border in uniform, with the black line that protruded through the right hand side standing to attention. 

My dearest friend, Jungkook

Hoseok was going to write a note, to the people he deemed to be important in his 20 years on Earth. Not necessarily people who were nice to him or his friends, but those who shaped his insignificant life and made it seem alright to be living- even though his life lasted a few miserable years.

Note after note began stacking up. Each note was placed in a white envelope and a gold label with the two words "thank you" holding down the flap of the envelope. Each letter was addressed, their name followed by a blunt phrase 'please don't open until I'm gone- Jung Hoseok.'

Hoseok was brought away from his in depth scrawling by a light tapping at the window. The noise was similar to that of a dog scratching at a door when you wouldn't give it attention. In the silhouette of the night sky, Jungkook was leant against the window frame his fingers grasping tightly onto the glass and Hoseok could see each line of his fingerprints splayed out on the glass. Upon seeing Hoseok's glance his way, Jungkook waved.

The elder stood up and went to open the window, helping the younger in even though he could do it himself.

"Jungkook? What are you doing here? It's late." His tone was accusing but in retrospect he was quite happy the boy was here. He could use some help.

"I figured you would still be awake and I didn't want to leave you on your own." Jungkook whispered softly.

The young boy was wearing a grey tracksuit with his parka wrapped over him again. His soft brown hair tousled in different directions from where it was pulled in anger or frustration. At the back it was slightly matted like he tried to sleep but him standing in front of Hoseok proved he couldn't. He looked delicate but overcome with fatigue.

Hobi picked up his letters, his writing scribbled neatly on the paper "I've got some notes to deliver, do you want to help?"

Nodding slowly, Jungkook agreed. Looking at the first name on the letter it stated Park Jimin.

"Jimin? Why Jimin?" The younger was confused, the two boys weren't necessarily close friends so he was unsure on why Hobi wrote him a letter.

"I'm sure he will tell you."

***

The two boys strode side by side their footsteps heavy in the silent night. The sky was dark this navy blue that just skimmed being a pitch black. The blanketed sky interrupted by specks of stars, some stood our more than the others, sparkling fervently.

"My dad says that the stars are the remnants of those who had to be sacrificed." Jungkook sighed out into the cold night, pulling his coat further round him so he was practically cuddling himself.