Two of You (Vmin)

'Till Death do us Part. (18)

It's not silence, it's not over powering noise either. Not a blinding light passing your visual field and definitely not a blur. Being over surrounded by strangers isn't comfortable, that's a fact in any situation, it's just a claustrophobic space with air shared between too many mouths. It's a pure numb feeling, you're lost in a train of thoughts so loud and passing by so quickly that you're struggling to keep up. I can tell you, chasing a bullet train without hearing, eyesight or a stable state of mind, it's just burning out your lungs. Feeling that useless sits as high as being rush to ER. It's not like the movies, life is never like the movies.

White covered the walls, shone bright light when the sun beamed through the windows and never left a dull light sit even when the moon sat high. His voice was foggy to me, it had my mind buzzing with endless thoughts, ones full of hard ends to a situation, some about what path I could manage to take and they all had one thing in common, they all hurt. My gaze moved from the white band latched around my wrist and landed lazily on my mother. She sat up right, a perfect posture with her bag comfortably on her lap. Her head would nod, displaying to the doctor that she was processing the words he spoke. I know from pure experience, this information she was absorbing wasn't help me get through this but to use it against me. To continue playing her movie behind my eyes, one where there was no other ending but hers.

She then turned to me, fear pulsed right through me as I had not prepared myself to lock eyes with her at all. She had her mask plastered on, just for show, of course, for the doctor to see what a wonderful mother society wants to see. The fear quickly drained from my body, anger instantly replacing it when she spoke with that voice I despised so much.

"Do you know why you must have done this, Jimin?" The doctor said, fingered entwined and placed on the desk.

I didn't tear my gaze away from the mother, watching her expressions play one emotion and her eyes completely lack any. My teeth gritted when the doctor suggested 'depression' and I laughed.

"You really fucking think.." I said, beginning the whole story I wish I said years back.

"That depression puts scars all over my body in places I alone am unable to reach? You think a mental illness causes random bruises on my face? You think I decided to punch a wall? Skin would peel off my knuckles if I managed to hit more than one hard enough but it wouldn't be like this. As a doctor, I'm hoping you would know the difference between punching a brick wall and making contact with a face. I only have bruises on my knuckles. Use your skills for more than taking all our money. She did it! She's the one who hired some fuckers to 'teach her son a lesson' because she doesn't approve on what the hell I do. If you really want to know depression and help me out, you should have looked at my brother and saw the pain he withheld and helped him instead because sir, that's a mental illness."

I sighed, leaned back onto my chair before instantly standing up and leaving the room. My breathing was heavy, uneven and suffocating, releasing all that stress was relaxing, slightly. I still had fire burning in my lungs wanting to be put out but those words should be saved for ears who won't just listen and stand shocked, but will move and grasp onto my bleeding hands to help.

"Jimin, you're okay?!"

That voice was a voice I could and never would forget, Hoseok. Staring up at him, he jogged towards me, smile on his face but that smile dropped when my expression didn't change. Seeing him wasn't a blessing anymore, he was burden. I watched him, watched him slowly come to a halt seeing the lack of emotions I had presented, it wasn't welcoming so he won't approach. He stood a few steps away from me, arms hung by his side as he waited, waited for me to say something but no words from the endless ones that sat on my tongue filled the air, I stayed silent too. Like a short film, we watched one another and simply stood patient, hoping to have some sort of action erupt but all that softly blew over us was the hard-heavy tension that was built up through the choice of him wanting to stand by the side of his boyfriend than his best friend. Betrayal. A traitor.