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rain —
The rain was pouring down and the streets were all wet, the sounds made when the raindrops hit the cement ground was addictive.
I was sitting in my room, isolated in a corner as I stared outside of the small window that was the only source of light to my room.
I flipped the small mirror in my hands as a pretty disgusting reflection was seen. My face was badly beaten up, my eyes blank, dried tears and bloody mouth, dark circles around my eyes, a big wound on the left side of my forehead.
I looked disgusted. I closed the mirror as I closed my eyes, trying to not move a lot since my body was ached in pain.
Darkness surrounded me now. I did succeed and shutting out the little light got in a rainy day.
A deep breath left me as a small, single tear rolled down my cheek.
Honestly, the wounds hurt a lot, I couldn't say the opposite.
But I was disappointed for not standing up for myself. For not protesting. For not defending myself. For not being brave. I hated myself.
How selfless could I be to just sit there, on my knees with the begging expression on my face, as if my homophobic father would care a single bit.
His disgusted eyes, the sighs and shakes his head did, the punches he threw, the kicks he made, I was so disgusting.
I was. Being different was disgusting, I knew it myself. My love knew it too.
Oh, my love..
A shudder left my body as my eyes lazily looked up, staring at the white ceiling, the big rope hanging there seeming so attempting.
So a few last moves wouldn't hurt now, right?
I could end all of the pain. Of being homosexual. Of being worse than the cows the 'normal' people cold heartedly killed everyday.
So I took a deep breathe, just listened to the sound of the soothing rain a little more before I pulled myself up from the dusty floor.
My body ached and my legs refused to let me continue this. But I wasn't going backwards today. It was time.
I pushed the small stool with my hand as I quickly threw myself up on it, already feeling dizzy, more blood leaving my mouth.
I smiled towards the wall as I nodded, as a goodbye sign. The walls were always there for me. Despite the fact that they were also having a painful life, not being able to talk nor move, they always were there for me.
Embracing me in ways not even humans did. So I was sure. I grasped for the rope as I pulled it under my chin, another tear rolling down my cheek.
May god send me to heave–probably to hell since the disgusting me would only deserve a place in hell.
My throat felt a small pressure from the rope, I closed my eyes and took a few more shaky breathes.
"YOONGI WHAT?!!!"
Panic hit me as I kicked the chair away and my throat got stuck inside of the rope, it kept on getting tighter.
I fought against it, already regretting this attempt. My legs tried their best, kicking up in the air, swinging my body back and forth, trying to get some space and air.
But the rope was tight, pushing tighter around my neck, closing the ways for my blood, my face turning blue as my eyes got teary, blurred vision as I tried to gasp for air, but nothing came.
My head hurt and everything was fading.
Maybe, I could die now?
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first chapter! and it's from Yoongi's perspective.
Forgive me for doing this. I wish the best for Yoongi and as I said this is pure fiction.
