White Lies // Minsung

6

(Trigger warning! Make sure you read! This chapter has depictions of self-harm/depression. If you are negatively effected please don't read the first half)

Jisung stepped out of Minho's car. He had Minho park it a couple blocks away from his house, not that Minho knew that. He turned on the crutches and waved goodbye to Minho as he drove off. As soon as Jisung could no longer see him, he took the crutches out from under his arms, put his shoe back on and slowly limped towards his house. Once he had made it there he slowly opened the door, peeking inside the house. He gave a sigh of relieve when he saw his father passed out on the couch.

He fully walked into house, picking up his backpack, and made his way upstairs to his room. He opened the door and set the crutches on the floor next to his closet. He discarded his backpack next to his bed. After all that was done he sat down on his bed, laying down after a few moments. Thats how he spent most of his night, laying on his bed staring at the ceiling. He thought about a lot that night. He thought about Minho, the night he had, his past, and even at some point his mother. He didn't think of her a lot. It hurt him to think of her now but he just couldn't help it, once he started he just couldn't stop. He realized at some point that he had started crying but make no move to wipe the tears.

He moved from his position curled in a ball and sat up, looking towards his bathroom. He slowly got up and walked towards the place that held so many of his secrets. He was still crying. He flipped on the light and looked at himself. He was a mess, unruly hair, bloodshot eyes, and a bruised face. He could hear the voice in his head whispering things.

'Ugly'

'Worthless'

'Murder'

'You should just die, no one would miss you'

'Do everyone a favor. Stop making your dad's life harder'

They didnt really hurt anymore. They were all things that he thought himself. So why did they effect him as much as they did tonight? He looked away from the mirror and towards his cabinet. He took small steps towards it and opened it. There were countless bottles in it, pain killers and allergy medicine, anti-depressants from when his mom took him to the doctor, and lastly his only other destructive distraction. The longer he stared at the shiny metal, the more he wanted to use it again. He hasn't for a few months, ever since his dad had found out. The beating that night had been the worst, he didnt go to school the day after because he couldn't walk. But now he didnt even care about his dad he just wanted a distraction.

He slowly grabbed the tiny piece of metal and stared at it. He moved it around between his fingers, getting used to the feeling again. He brought it closer to his wrist. It could be over so quickly, just one good wound and it could all be over. The metal touched his skin and then a face came into his mind. Minho had said he was gonna find him tomorrow. What would he do if Jisung wasn't even there? He reluctantly removed the metal from his wrist, deciding that his hips would be a better place. Why was Minho effecting him the way he was. Jisung was supposed to hate him. Tonight wasn't supposed to change anything. The longer he thought about it, the more Jisung became angry with himself.

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Jisung trudged into the school building with a scowl on his face. He was still sore from yesterday, from both his dad and himself, he had also woken up with a headache and was not in the mood for anyones shit. That was when Minho approached him in the hall with a smile, Jisung did nothing but limp straight past him and to the roof. Minho stared after him in confusion, wondering why he wasn't using the crutches. He had thought that they were making progress, that yesterday had meant something. His chest felt tight and he kind of wanted to cry. Minho jumped slightly when he felt a hand fall on his shoulder.