Rainbow - BTS

13 - Indigo

they told me i was a freak
that i couldn't ever possibly find my place in the world
they told me i was  just making it up
they told me that nobody could possibly struggle as much as i did then

but that didn't stop the voices from screaming in my head
that didn't change the way i was, the way i felt
it just made me feel more alone
until i wanted to scream at the people who claimed to love me

health isn't a joke
so stop treating it like a weakness
we can't control what our minds create

people suffer.

choosing to ignore and devalue their negative experiences is not an option.

Yoongi wakes up with a jolt to find himself sat on his sofa, Ebony still curled up on his lap, sleeping, the first copy of his book's manuscript lying open on the last page - just an illustration which symbolises everything Yoongi's been through.

A swirling storm cloud of black and deep indigo surrounding a pale grey figure that's sitting down, navy head in hands, curled up in an attempt to shut it all out. But they can't shut out something that's in their head.

Beyond that person, the world slowly becomes brighter, until we see other figures, merely silhouettes, standing together, the shape of them blurred slightly with watercolour, watching a golden sunrise. There's a moon in the corner of the black cloud, almost seeming to glow with the contrast given to it. Specks of white dot the cloud as well, like stars or precious gems.

He remembers the conversation with Jungkook which led to this image, remembers the way the younger male's eyes followed his tired movements and his uncomfortable expression, remembers how ashamed he was to talk about the inspiration for the last poem. It was like he was still in the mindspace that others would hate and judge him for what he'd been through in his youth.

When nothing could be further from the truth.

Jungkook came to him maybe a week after that conversation, looking nervous and unsure, face paler than usual, eyes bagged down with dark circles that indicated a lack of sleep. He was fidgeting, bringing his hands up and down from his mouth and trying desperately to avoid biting at his chewed-down nails.

But the painting he placed in front of Yoongi, face down so that he didn't have to watch the older's reaction, it seemed to echo everything that had gone through Yoongi's mind when he was at his worst. It was this painting. And it fit his emotions perfectly.

Before he was an indigo, his hair was jet black. His parents didn't notice at first, probably because a lot of babies don't have hair, but the moment they realised, they gave him up to the authorities, claiming that they didn't know how and didn't expect to have to deal with a child like that.

People with black hair were said to be empty, said to be cursed to live alone, cursed to have everything negative happen to them. They were a bad luck charm. Natural black hair was more of an obstacle than any other colour, in some ways, and so Yoongi's life became as difficult as his hair dictated.

He used to think it was fair when the other kids at his home got adopted, when prospective parents would walk past him quickly as if they were scared of catching a disease. He used to think that he deserved the treatment, the other kids pushing him around and sending him to 'make friends' with others to give them bad luck. It was little things like that, when he was very young.

And then a new kid arrived in the home. He wasn't as subtle, choosing to use physical violence to 'break' the bad luck out of Yoongi, claiming that it was for everyone's benefit. Like a sacrifice, almost. He was beaten up, pushed into the pathway of moving cars (which he then had to stumble away from before he was hit), given the worst chores. All because he was supposed to be empty.