#DepressionBuddies | Yoonmin

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5 Years Ago...

Third Person POV

"Come back you worthless piece of shit!" The woman shouted after the stumbling, half-awake teenager. His head and heart pounded yet he still pushed on. Maybe this time he'll really get out.

But, his lungs once again got the best of him. His legs gave out and he collapsed to the grass just before the gate. He was so close.

Yoongi tried his best to push himself back up- pulled himself forward with his arms.

Hands grabbed his shoulders, flipping him into his back. He watched as he was pulled along the ground, back to where he came from.

"Let me go!" He cried, his voice hoarse and strained. He kicked and clawed but nothing worked. The young boy was just too weak.

He gave up and was thrown back into his room. His knees scratched on the tile. He stayed in the floor, coughing and choking on his own sobs.

The thirteen-year-old boy scooted to the corner of the dark room. He held his knees close to his chest- this being one of the only sources of comfort he had. It's been years since he interacted with someone in a way that wasn't violent; fights with the other orphans who would come and go- and even security. He never understood why they needed such security.

Yoongi hated his life. Hated everything about it. He found no point in living, only, there was no way for him to kill himself. There was just too much security. They watched him 24/7, knowing his mental state.

But, what lead him to such a place? His mother abandoned him shortly after his father left them. She couldn't support the two of them. He was left on the streets for a few weeks before he was picked up and put into foster care. He bounced around homes until he was ten then landed himself a permanent spot here. Every child he has met gets adopted- given a family. But not him. Nobody wants the skinny, weak boy. They want the fun-loving and cheerful kid.

The opposite of Min Yoongi.

The boy cried until no more tears would fall. This is a nightly routine. He escapes through the window in the kitchen and makes it about halfway across the lawn. Living here makes his life more miserable than it ready is. Everyone hates him- They all pick on him; tease him; break him down more and more with every word.

Miriam, the woman who runs the agency, is no better. She and Yoongi do not have the best relationship. She'll have him skip meals at each slip-up, even if he was just defending himself.

Each day is repetitive. Over and over and over again. Yoongi can't escape it and can't imagine he ever will.

It's like his life isn't even his own. He is just some toy to be used and kicked around to bring other's satisfaction.

Yoongi clawed at his scalp, pulling his hair and kicking his legs. The voices wouldn't go away. They taunted him.

The voices like to make periodical visits. Each voice varies in tone and gender- usually something someone else has told him.

He's heard everything but one single comforting word. Nothing to ease his mind. Nothing to tell him that it may get better someday.

All he sees is the never-ending abyss of hell he dwells in. To him, it will stay this way until he grows old. He sees no escape- for every attempt at escape as failed- much like tonight.

Yoongi pulled himself up and he climbed onto his bed, curling into the fetal position. His bed is only frame and mattress. Not even a sheet to keep him warm in the winter.

"Please stop." He cried quietly, "Please." He coughed and choked, not caring what he looked like or who heard him.

Sometimes all Yoongi really wishes for is a friend. Or, even, someone he can talk to. Someone he can interact with- not fight with. Someone who will make him laugh. Happy.

The word "happy" hasn't been in his vocabulary for years. The emotion lays stagnant in his brain.

Yoongi has tried making himself imaginary friends but he finds it pathetic. There's no use. He's grown to accept the heart-wrenching loneliness.

Eventually, much like every night, Yoongi drifted into an occasionally dreamless sleep. Sleep for him didn't energize him. It did nothing but provided him a few hours of relief from his mind and his life overall.

Yoongi didn't know a lot- but he did know one thing. He was alone. Completely, utterly alone.

Maybe someday he'll find a way to end it. He'll sneak into the kitchen and steal a knife- slit his wrists. Hang himself with a shoelace. He only knows how to do this because of talk from the other kids- telling him what to do. How to kill himself.

Wanting him to kill himself.

It's only natural for Yoongi to listen to them.

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