IMAGINE THIS | bts ✓

silent words - namjoon

Poems are series of words and sentences describing a person's thought and feelings. They made you free. They gave you faith because you believed and read between the lines. That was something you always did. You read between the lines.

Writing poems were your only escape from the real world. A world where they pointed and laughed at you because you were mute. Somehow, words could randomly shoot up in your brain and you'd be able to turn that word into a short poem. It always depended on how you felt at the time.

Hate was directed at you. You were known as an alien. You couldn't help but shut out the hate from around you. It wasn't your fault you were born this way. It wasn't your fault they hated you. But it was your fault for not being able to do something about it. 

All eyes would lock on you as you pass through the halls. You constantly reminded yourself being different was okay. But this was the real world. If only you could believe the lies you told yourself. 

Your parents loved you to extreme points to where you would move every few months just to escape the hate. The pain. The loneliness. They made sure you were okay. Or at least stable. You were grateful they didn't hate you, too. 

Although you have never said a word, you always had so much to tell. So much pain to explain. You cried silent tears behind doors. It always felt nice to be alone in silence. Because that was all you were. Silent.

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The constant chatter in the lunchroom was too much to endure. Most of the ruckus coming from the popular kids. There was no one in your grade who was mute. Every one of them had a voice they could use to express their feelings. But you didn't.

Your back was flat against the bark of the tree. Your lunch sat not too far from you. It wasn't unusual for you to eat outside on a cloudy day. You ate lunch outside everyday. There should be no problem.

Today was different. A boy watched you write with your black gel pen into your pale purple journal from a nearby table. You two were the only ones outside. You had your mind on the clouds hanging above the sky as you wrote your poem. He watched you with such amazement as you never stopped writing to think. You ended your poem to catch his gaze.

"Sorry, I was just curious as to what you were writing," He smiled and a dimple appeared. You had no thought of how to react to his remark. He must not know you were mute. He must be new. 

You scribble something into your journal. His eyes were still on you. As curious as ever. You scooted into the empty space beside him and tilted your journal for him to read. At least, you thought he could read. He looked smart. 

"'I can't speak. I'm mute.'," He read, "Oh, sorry."

You squinted at him suspiciously and wrote down another sentence. 

"'Why do you keep saying sorry?'" He took a moment to understand what you were saying. Or intended on saying. "I don't know. I felt the need to. I can't imagine how bad you must be treated around here for being mute."

You began writing again as he finished saying his sentence. You passed the journal to him again.

"'Why would you think that?'" The boy read aloud, "You're eating outside. Alone."

He looked at you as he said that. You hesitated before showing him the page he was anticipating for. It was a page of your cloud poem. You felt your lips tug into a smug smirk. You were proud of this poem. The boy took the journal in his hands, 

"'Clouds fill the sky. Each cloud resembles a different shape. Clouds are beautiful when they drift across the sky. They choose to be seen when you are awake. That way, you can be mesmerized by their beauty.'"

His eyes widen with surprise. He gulped. He opened his mouth to say something before closing it. He was speechless.

"Is this a poem?" You nod your head. "It's beautiful."

Heat feels your cheek. A smile was shown upon your lips.

"What's your name?" The boy's eyes rested on yours. Never breaking contact.

You scribble your name onto the page and showed him. He glanced at the page and smiled.

"That's very beautiful, too." You raise a brow at him.

"My na--"

He was cut off by the bell ringing. It indicated lunch was over. You rushed over to the tree to gather your things. Then you walked through the building doors with him behind you. You push past people to get to the main hall. He followed in your footsteps but couldn't get past the crowd separating you two.

"Namjoon. My name is Namjoon." You heard him holler behind you. You turned around. He had on a dimpled smile. He was waving a hand goodbye to you. You returned the gesture and continued through the halls. 

He made you smile. No one had made you smile in the longest time ever. He didn't care if you were mute or not. He was happy. And you were happy. That's where the smile came from.