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ENTRY 2.V: TAEHYUNG
April 5, 2009: 04:14
Taehyung had been sitting in the same place on his bed for over 3 hours now. He couldn't get over what had happened no matter how hard he tried to. It was a waste of an attempt to make himself feel better. His eyes stung, his nose ran, and his head ached from so much crying, but at that point, he'd gotten so used to it that he just began ignoring it. His pillow was soaked from his tears even after flipping it over and over constantly throughout the night. He had nothing better to do besides sit there. He was beginning to think that he might as well just die along with them just so that he could be satisfied with himself.

They wouldn't want that, his better conscience told him as he contemplated his choices. They would've wanted you to carry on the dream.

How was he supposed to do it without them, though? It seemed impossible now that they were gone.

He had become nothing but a shell of that of which he once was. He was afraid. He was afraid of his power, he was afraid of his wings...

...he was afraid of himself...

"You worthless piece of shit..." he would murmur to himself as he hit himself willingly as a form of self-discipline.

Taeyhung collapsed onto his bed, supporting himself with his arms as he caught his breath, having exhausted himself with his own blows.

He would be trapped in this world forever, a world in which he would never be able to forgive himself for what he did. He wished deep down inside him that he would be able to forgive himself, but what would be the point in that? They meant so much to him, Youngsoo and Eunmi. Forgiving himself for their deaths would risk forgetting them for good. This all seemed to him as if he were the one who'd been stabbed with glass. No matter how hard he wished for it all to change, none of what had happened in the past few hours would be able to be reversed.

Why was he an angel? He couldn't be called one if he'd done what he'd just done. Angels don't sin.

...but this angel does.

His wings served him no comfort, told nothing of his purpose, or demonstrated no proper display of who or what he truly felt he was. Why did he have them? Why did he have to be like this?

His wings told him that he didn't belong, that he was being labeled incorrectly. He didn't deserve to be called an angel. Taehyung told himself that he would never deserve to be called one ever again.

Never.

Suddenly, as if his thoughts triggered something inside of him, Taehyung's back began aching, being accompanied by a pinch on his lower neck. He gripped his soaking pillow in agony as the pain seared through his back, feeling his muscles tense under the pressure. It was his wings. It was as if they had a mind of their own underneath his skin, begging for him to let them out. He held back as hard as he possibly could, attempting to not let the pain bring their release. This was the pain that he missed in the beginning. This is what he got for losing consciousness while first gaining his wings however long ago.

They began to slowly reveal themselves, and Taehyung couldn't continue to hold back no matter how hard he tried. This time, though, they looked different. Rather than being the same bright white he remembered from before, the wings he saw out of the corner of his vision were now a dark grey, seeming almost like luminous shadows within the darkness of his room. He was changing yet again, the title of angel being stripped off of him.  He watched as the white faded from the fibers of his wings, the new darker color running slowly upwards to their tips on either side. Tears continued to escape his eyes, the thoughts of what he'd done to deserve what he had just been going through continuing to haunt him.

The two flower petals he retrieved from earlier danced above him, and he looked up at them with streams of tears on his face.

I'm sorry Eunmi...

I'm sorry, Youngsoo...

He thought this to himself while staring at the airborne petals as if he were able to talk to them somehow.

This is all my fault...

He sniffed, as the sobbing only worsened.

I'm doing this for you...

Taehyung's suffering only satisfied his uneasiness slightly, still feeling guilt beyond imagine for what he had done.

In the past few minutes, the air on his neck had become unusually crisp, stiffening Taehyung's spine. He reached his trembling hand over to where the pinching had been, finding that a mark had been left there in the shape of a circle with an x through it. Taehyung brought his hand back around quickly, startled by the change, and observed the blood that touching the mark had left on the tip of his fingers.

It was a sign of his sin, a mark would forever be, to Taehyung, a symbol for his mistakes. His changed wings would as well, leaving the memories engraved with him. The stigma of his sin would now never be able to be healed. They would remain with him forever, no matter what he ever tried to do about it.