TEXT MSG, minsung

57

pitch black was all minho could see. he felt like was floating, drifting through an endless sea of lifeless darkness. he couldn't make sense of anything, and all his thoughts were practically nonexistent.

for that moment, he felt infinite, timeless. peaceful. serene.

he was free of any disturbance, of any feelings which showcased upcoming doom, and for that, he was grateful.

but suddenly, he felt caged. imaginary cuffs laced around his wrists, restricting him from his unhibited drifting. gravity enclosed its grip around his skin, pulling and pulling and pulling him lower.

and lower.

and lower.

but minho wanted to be released. he wanted to be freed, to escape once more into that vast darkness that made him experience that feeling of weightlessness and liberation he so greatly desired.

he wanted to float again.

from the darkness, he made an ungraceful descent into a blazing light, one that made his head throb with an incoming headache. the light flashed in front his eyelids, forcing his eyes to open despite minho not wanting them to.

minho felt trapped once more as a searing gleam irritated his eyes, exposing his irises to a white so dazzling, it made his headache increase by a ten-fold.

dryness ravaged at his throat when his dry lips parted for a sharp intake of oxygen, and his body was confined to one spot. his wrists felt locked in place, and suddenly minho didn't feel so limitless anymore.

he was alone, but minho didn't feel alone.

tiny beeps entered his eardrums and pounded their way into his head, and his tired eyes drifted to his left wrist, which had been heavily bandaged, iv drips connected into the pale skin.

no... minho couldn't believe it.

no no no no no.

he couldn't believe he was alive. he couldn't believe that he'd done all that -- that he'd slit his wrists -- all for nothing.

NO!

the hoarseness in minho's throat worsened when a dry sob left his lips. his lungs felt compressed as he struggled to breath, hyperventilating at the fact that he was still alive, that he was saved.

why did this always have to happen to him? why couldn't he just end his life and be done with it once and for all? why did he always have to be rescued?

minho would have reached out to tear the bandages covering his wrists had he not felt completely and utterly worn-out. he wanted to dissociate from everything, but yet he didn't even have the energy to do that.

the door opened with a click, but minho didn't bother looking up. he wanted to block everything out, to make himself believe that he was actually dead right now, but the faint beeping of the heart monitor next to him testified another thing entirely.

"mr. lee, we're so glad you've woken up," a cheerful female voice etched itself into his brain, and a lump formed inside minho's throat at the emotional pain he experienced right that second.

he didn't want to wake up, but yet those people made him to. why couldn't they just let him be?

when minho glanced up, he was met with a woman with silky, long black hair and a gentle smile on her face. in her hands held a clipboard, and a shorter lady stood next to her, her outfit signifying that she was a nurse.