jeon jeongguk has a headache.
that's the only thing on his mind.
only thing that can be on his mind, he can't think. tries to. fails, because there's voices all around him, surrounding, suffocating, and when he tries to focus on one, they all fade out, leaving him in silence. his eyes are closed. lids heavy, dead weight, like anger. like red.
that's all he sees. paints his surroundings, overloads his senses, until the color starts bleeding, and he's sure at this point his brain is red too. very well may be. because he can't move. because the voices have disappeared, and he knows he's alone, but where is he alone. why is the silence ten times more disorienting, why can't he move, why won't his eyes open.
his stomach grumbles. the cookie is a brick now, but it's also long gone, yet the residue coats his stomach, crawling up his throat and into his mouth. a terrible aftertaste. not like nutmeg, not even like a cookie. just pain, just something that makes him feel like he's not really within his own body. like he's not really awake.
like what could be, what could've been, a reminder that no matter who's wrong or right the one with the upper hand in any situation will emerge victorious. he wonders if that's how his mother feels right now. giddy, triumphant, any word his red brain can come up with in this empty room he can't see.
he needs to focus, needs it bad, so he tries, wills his brain to start, begs for coherence. the more he thinks the less he feels dead, the more he tries the less he feels like he isn't there, the more he realizes he is his own body, he's the only one who can control it, it is him.
his finger twitches, and he almost smiles but he doesn't think that'd be right. smiling. he doesn't know where he is, doesn't even know if he is. he steadies himself, breathes in deep. he can open his eyes. a simple motion really, not much exertion, easy even.
he does it, realizes it's a bad idea too late, and everything's white now. bright white, searing, pain clawing from the back of his eye sockets into the back of his head, down his spine, touching the fingertips he'd just been wiggling, and now he's awake.
it comes too quickly, his senses. they flood back into his consciousness, overwhelming everything, because before all he felt was numb, all he felt was dulled out blissful darkness, but now he feels everything. now he sees his surroundings, smells artificial cleaner, the cold air as it touches his skin.
all he sees is white. blinding, almost sickening, almost painful. he blinks a couple times to try and filter out the brightness, but it doesn't do much. he lays there for what feels like eternity, eyes rapidly opening and closing, body unmoving. vision unmoving. just staring at white, at nothing, and it's maddening in every sense of the word.
now that he's more aware at least, within his own brain, thoughts, even though he's not within his eyes, if that makes sense, he notices it. the effects of whatever his mom gave him, whatever runs through his veins. whatever it is, it's strong, and it's really a wonder he didn't overdose.
"hello jeongguk!"
a robotic voice, female. comes out of nowhere. jeongguk is nowhere.
his soul leaves his body, forces itself back in through his ribcage and he feels like he's going to throw up. he remains still, blinking at the ceiling, but now his eyes are wider, hands aching to push himself forward, let him see whoever said that. whatever said that.
he knows it isn't a good idea, but when he sits, blinking at the ceiling, another minute passing, he doesn't care whats good or bad. he thinks a more appropriate term would be do or die.
YOU ARE READING
free | taegguk
Fanfiction[ON HOLD] jeongguk's always known not to trust his mother. she lies, manipulates. makes him feel like the kind of person who would do the same thing. one day, when she relies on drastic measures to try and fix what she thinks is broken, jeongguk wil...
