The Last- Min Yoongi

1.

It was freezing cold. It was the new year's eve and I was standing alone, turing around my bed, covered in thin sheets that caused me to shiver everytime I changed position.

"He is not coming home",I  told myself for the fifth time that night.

As I prepared to close my eyes, a single tear rolled down to the pillow, I hear the door opening and Jimin making his way to the room.

"Get up! We can't afford to rest, not now"

I knew this was going to happen, again, I slowly stood up and walked towards him.

"I can't live like this anymore Jimin!" I yell.

"Its been two fucking years, just kill him already! I've given you every single detail"

Jimin turns his head at the tone of my voice, he lets all the equipment in the chair near the bed and makes his way up to me.

"Shut up! You know nothing" he says, centimentres from my face.

" you just go out there and take some pictures! You don't know the real work behind."

Those words hit me. I was part of this mission for almost three years, and get no recognition. I have been used, consumed from this lifestyle that I did not want in the first place.

"I stood by your side all this time Jimin, you are my fucking brother!" Tears, were now running down my cheeks.

" you don't even try to get me out of this rathole where we live, you never cared!"

Carefully I wipe my tears with my hands, tired of fighting with Jimin.
I stare at his,now bare angry face.

He makes me a gesture to leave the room and go in kitchen, where I have been sleeping for years.

I walk myself out of the room, turning my back completely at him. Just as I was leaving the room, the drawer next to the bed caught my attention. The money I have been saving for years, were still there.

Jimin was paying attention to my every single move, I turn back and look at him for the last time, before I grab my money and walk out.

"Im going to finish this myself"

Before He could make any move, I close the door of the room he was staying and make my way to the kitchen.

I take my backpack near the couch, put my money there and continue my way out the front door.

Just as I was walking out I glanced at the mirror and something took my attention.

I stared at my reflection for what It seemed for hours.

Red eyes, black bags sorrounding them and visible cheekbones.

I trace my feautures with my fingers, not believing that this was the way I have been consuming myself for years.

But all of this was coming to an end soon. My brother would not care less about me, he was probably asleep by now.

And I couldn't care less anymore about this stupid mission.

Well, I guess Happy new year to me!