The Faulty Ones

Chapter 1| The Reality

Taehyung sat on his bed crisscrossed, it letting his body sink into the soft material as it molded his body. He looked away from his journal as his eyes drifted to the window next to his bed. Taehyung watched as cars speeded up and down the busy road and people walking along the sidewalk.

He rested his arm on his knee, the small black leather journal in his hand slowly slipping out of his grip as he watched the outside life buzz with activity. Taehyung had been writing for about two hours now, his fingers were hurting and his mind was now elsewhere, so he decided to take a break.

He took the small black journal everywhere with him, it was conveniently small enough to fit in his pocket, making transporting it places easy; not that he left his apartment often.

The journal was filled with poems, sketches, and his thoughts. The thought of his life going nowhere he wanted and just nowhere in general. His thoughts of how his parents loathed him. Just because he didn’t see eye to eye with them and he didn’t do what they wanted him to do: Have top grades and get a high paying job. Taehyung wasn’t terrible in school, but he didn’t have the best grades, or at least not to his parent’s standards. He wanted to be a painter or an author, something he would actually enjoy, but even that wasn’t working for him.

They may have been his parents, but that didn’t mean they had the right to control his life. Their job was to help him grow up and teach him right from wrong. But in the end, it was his choice if he was going to imply their teachings to his adult life.  

He was his own person and could do what he wanted. He could rob a store knowing he could get in trouble. Even though he knew the consequences, he still could do it if he wanted to. He could take the gun that Yoongi hid in his drawer and shoot himself in the head; that wouldn’t have any consequences since he’d be dead.

Taehyung sighed at how many times he thought about hurting himself in the past because of his parents. Now his parents were dead. As he thought, they died because of how bitchy and bitter they were. And maybe because at night he would take a kitchen knife and let it dance across his arm. They do say karma is a bitch. A bitch she is indeed.

Taehyung got help after his roommate, Namjoon, walked into his room to see the horror of Taehyung sitting tranquil on his bed with a knife in his hand and blood dripping onto the white sheets of his bed from his wounded arm. Namjoon was petrified by the sight in front of him. He was perturbed to see his friend ruin his perfect smooth tan skin by letting a knife press against it until the skin split open to leak out with blood.

Namjoon quickly started taking him to see a therapist after. For a whole year, he went to the therapist with Namjoon and he hated it. Even though Namjoon thanked the therapist for helping him, Taehyung knew he only got better because of Namjoon. Namjoon was the one who encouraged him and made him feel worthy of just living. Taehyung knew if he hadn’t met Namjoon someone would have found him lying dead with a knife in him.

Taehyung met Namjoon when he was in college, but after six months Taehyung dropped out. When his parents found out they kicked him out of the house. Luckily Namjoon was nice enough to offer him to stay with him in his apartment.

Namjoon later dropped out of college too so he could work full time since Taehyung couldn’t maintain a job. And Namjoon was ok with that. He was happy that Taehyung was with him and he happily worked to provide for them. Yoongi, the guy with a gun in his drawer, was friends with Namjoon and lived down the hall. Namjoon introduced him to Taehyung and they quickly became a trio.

As Taehyung was pondering as he looked out the window, the door opened.

“I see you’re still writing in your diary,” Yoongi teased, a small smile on his thin lips.