Our eternity (It couldn't last)

Chapter 1

Depression is a Demon.

  It'll always find someway to twist your mind into a resentful abyss, it'll turn you into something that you only though existed in your nightmares, something that you never wanted to be. It'll creep up on you and take you by surprise, like green vines weaving and winding their way up and ancient tree trunk, and it won't stop until you've surrendered to it every inch of your mind and the person you use to be.  

That was something Jimin had learnt from a very young age, and a lesson he would never forget. Back when he was still a small boy with a mind of innocence, a mind that was yet to be tanited by how harsh life was and the cruelty of reality. His father had drilled the phrase into his head, day after day without break, a unspoken demand for him to always remember every word he spoke.

His father had been a psychiatrist, you see. He had worked for the NHS in England where he had been born, long before he moved to Korea with his wife that had been pregnant with Jimin at the time. Sometimes Jimin wondered what lif would have been like if his father and Mother hadn't moved to Korea, if they had stayed in England and he had made a life in a different country. 

When Jimin was eight he moved to the seaside city of Busan with his father, with his mother in tow. He had endured hours upon hours of their long screaming matches that lasted late into the night, heard his mothers shouts and the sounds of plates and empty bottles smashing against the wall. He didn't know what it all meant, back then, but it happened so often he presumed it was normal.

In Busan, Jimin had to attend a new school, a twenty five minute walk from the small house he and his father now lived in, but he failed to make any friends, not on the first day and not on the last. He was the strange new kid that nobody liked or wanted to talk to, the boy with an even stranger accent and was herefore left to be by himself on the first and last days. It was lonely, the teachers regarded him with pity in their eyes, the students tripped him thinking it was funny, but at some point he stopped caring.

By the time Jimin reached the age of fourteen, starting his GCSE's in the local high school, he had managed to get into a steady routine of eating his lunch by himself in the abandoned toilets of the humanities and languages department. He never hot involved with group work in class, nobody ever wanted to partner with him, so he did every project by himself and excelled in every subject. 

When Jimin reached fifteen, he had the haunting realisation that he liked boy's. He preffered short hair that couldn't be tied as opposed to long wavy hair that had been conditioned to a fault, tight fit jeans that hugged defined crotches rather than short skirts that revealed girls skanty underwear, mucular bodies that screamed masculinity instead of the petite and distinctly feminine bodies with curves and breasts society demanded he loved.

Jimin was sixteen when he had walked back from a long day at school to find his mother hanging from the living rooms ceiling fan, thick rope tied around her neck and her long black hair concealing her no doubt purple skin and bulging eyes from view. He vaguely remembered screaming, and screaming, not stopping until one of the neighbours came to see what the disturbance was. Not long after the emergency services came, but they were unable to do anything, and offered only a little comfort, sending shivers down Jimin's spine when they rang his father to explain everything.

When his father returned from work that night he didn't utter a single word nor pull him into a tight hug as he usually would after returning from work, he didn't even look at him. Jimin had always taken pride in how similar he was to his mother, from the colour of his eyes to the shape of his nose, but for once that felt a lot more like a curse than a blessing. 

That night Jimin cried, he cried for the first time since he was a child, the pillow doing nothing to muffle his sobs as the fabric became damp with his ever flowing tears.