Falling bullets✔

CHAP50-"Bird skin"

J     U     N     G     K     O     O     K

Every key of the piano to me, were like each letters of the alphabets. My fingers were hesitating to touch the rectangular pieces of the stranded piano. It was lonely and kept without a master of its own.

Even when I felt so close to the instrument, the more I approach it, the further I feel the distance between us.

Now I was restless. I wanted to touch it more than anything. And so I started running towards the wooden instrument. My legs felt like they were on a treadmill. I was stuck on the same place, my legs moving, but never covering the distance.

There was a sudden noise that caught my attention. It was as if someone had entered the dark room that had only me and a piano. When I turned there was a sudden light that reached towards me. It was in the shape of an open door.

I was sure there wasn't anyone behind the open door. But the noise was followed by flapping of wings. The sound kept getting louder. The winged creatures flying above me didn't look welcoming. They flew above me in circles as if I was invading their place or their territory.

I didn't move, rather I couldn't. This seemed to upset the birds. In a blink of an eye they were gone. Beads of sweat rolled down my forehead. The room started to get hotter. With doubt marking lines on my forehead, I turned to look back at the piano.

It was set on fire.

The fire that sealed the room with its blazing light had petrified me. I no longer wanted the piano. I feared it. I wanted it gone.

I blinked again, and it was gone.

But instead of the piano, I saw a painting in its place. A boy was painted on the square canvas. There was no unique color; the brush had splashed all the colors that could exist over the face of the boy. Everything about him seemed a little more detailed the more I looked at it. The painting seemed so real. It's as if his eyes were talking to me. The way the paint was still dripping from the white canvas was a proof that it was newly done.

Or in other words, it was still....alive.

'Hyung' escaped my lips that were accompanied by my tears.

The lights went off. I was no longer in the dark room. There was neither painting nor birds. I could not see myself anymore. Everything was blank to my eyes, but my ears were sharp in trying to understand my surroundings.

There was a crash. The car was not so clear when I had got back my vision, but I could see the glass break into pieces. At that spot, where the glasses had settled on the ground, there was a picture? Or a painting?

Of a bird.

"Jungkook, are you okay? Listen, just breathe-it's okay-it was just a nightmare" A voice so sweet and beautiful whispered while holding onto my hand. Whatever I saw in that dream had managed to pull me up in fear. My breathing wasn't stable as I had to relax myself first. The warm hand that was connected with mine gave me a sort of assurance that I'm fine.