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

6. SACRIFICE [PRT2]

"It's not the long walk home that will change this heart but the welcome I receive with every start." ~Roll Away Your Stone, Mumford & Son.
***

Attempting one last smile, Hoseok looked over his friends and family. All in some state trying to grasp on to each other for that final piece of support. The support that would fill the hole Hoseok left.

Jungkook whimpered his head buried into Taehyung's chest, arms of the elder cradling him tightly. Jimin on his knees with his head touching the floor as he prayed to any God to be good to his dear friend. Namjoon and Jin standing closely with their heads held down, mumbling between themselves.

Creaking metal with frail aching limbs, moaned in protest. Suddenly the swing dropped, only a meter at most yet it caused a stir across the crowd. With the movement Hoseok felt his heart lurch. This was really happening- and no amount of preparation would've helped him for this. Jungkook wailed harder. His pleas folding into the mass of voices around him yet was still so clear to Hoseok's ears.

Peeking a glance downwards, Hoseok saw nothing. An empty cylindrical void of darkness. It was like drowning, Hoseok thought, (minus the water) but that suffocating feeling of being pulled under by something much, much, greater than himself. A Black Sea, engulfing him with scents of damp stone and impending doom.

Before long Hoseok struggled to see over the grey stones lining the sides of the well, his head craning up so he could have his final views of humanity. It was like quicksand dragging him down and he clawed with all his strength to keep his head above. He was terrified: the darkness below hooked on to his feet, grinning devilishly at him and his unfortunate life.

He watched with distaste as Taehyung patted Jungkook's back because he knew the boy preferred his back being rubbed soothingly and got irritated with the sound of the repetitive taps.

He watched as Seokjin tried to calm Jimin down, illustrating how he should breathe and the young boy hyperventilating into his hands.

He watched Namjoon frown and how his nose crinkled to prevent tears. Mind working overtime as he tried his hardest to understand the whole situation.

A lump built in his throat, maybe it was the same one as he had when with Jungkook, suffocating his senses with nothing but distress; like a hand tightening around his neck testing him to shed a single tear in front of them all.

Perhaps it was his strength towards this day beforehand that made his death seem much worse. If he had accepted his true feelings and cried: would he have felt better? Would the anguish be more bearable? Could he have accepted it now if he didn't accept it before?

Maybe he shouldn't have bottled his feeling, and should've cried on Jungkook's shoulder.

Maybe he could've come to this day differently.

Maybe he could've run away.

Maybe he was too late.

A final gasp of fresh air and Hoseok was surrounded by icy stonework. Misshapen bricks laying atop each other, resting their weights upon another brick, upon another, upon another, upon another.

He felt suffocated and the air in his lungs stuttered out in uneven heaves. The lump in his throat increased as he coughed to hold back his tears, throwing his head down to look at nothing.

The last sound from the outside world was a prolonged scream from the mouth of Jungkook. With every second that passed you could hear his heart break and all the pain that shattered his little body. Hoseok's grip tightened on the rope choking up a silent sob as he tried to keep calm. Feeling his own hot tears cascade down his cheeks and he couldn't stop.