Mirror

P r o m i s e

|| e d i t e d ||

"I want you to be your light, Baby. You should be your light. So you won't hurt anymore, so you can smile more . . . Now promise me, oh, oh. Several times a day, oh, oh. Even if you feel that you are alone, oh, oh. Don't throw yourself away, oh, oh" ~ Jimin (BTS), Promise

약속

P r o m i s e

~ Jae-hyun ~

I CAN'T SLEEP.

The thought of closing my eyes is there. Present in my head among those of gratefulness for everyone in this studio, and those of Ji-han's face, his features an alternating blend of unwavering anxiety, broken brotherly love, and twisted cruelty. But it's lost beneath the weight of my brother's brittle smile and half-edged animosity. My mind aches from being active for far too long without rest, too. Although ironically, it is the reason for my inability to fall under.

I blink at the ceiling, the crisp white paint job a bitter contrast to what I'm used to.

The studio is silent and empty aside from my body splayed out atop the wood floorboards. Everyone else, Jimin included, has gone to bed (I think?). Following their strict schedule that dictates when they are and are not allowed to fulfil even the most basic human needs. I'm not sure if I can be in here without one of the BTS members or a staff member, or even at all at this time. But I am, and much to my horror, I don't remember coming here.

It's been a while since I've caught myself unaware in a daze. Although Jimin didn't seem too worried, I was anxious about it when I first moved in. Sleeping in a room with someone who isn't my brother scares me. What if I hurt myself without knowing, and in doing so, I hurt one of them? What if I don't even bother injuring myself before I hurt one of them?

I shudder, jarring my spine on the hardwood floor.

I don't want to hurt them.

I don't want to hurt anyone.

Not again.

Not like I hurt Ji-han.

Twisting my body onto my side, I let the impact of my skull against the floorboards knock the thoughts from my mind. Silence. Beautiful, alleviating silence echoes through my headspace and dull, throbbing pain is quick to take up the space my chaotic thoughts leave behind amid their retreat. It doesn't last anywhere near long enough, the lapse of startling quiet equivalent to the blink of an eye. Because to my left is the entire wall of full-length mirrors, laid out like a perfect method of torture right before me.

My reflection is still. With dead eyes and an open mouth, it lies lifeless in the glass. If the face devoid of expression and animation didn't give the absence of life away, its chest, failing to rise and fall in sync with every shallow breath I take, would.

It's strange seeing your own corpse. Maybe normal people would shy away, screaming in horror at their own dead selves and throwing their bodies in the opposite direction of what they see in a desperate attempt to run as far away from the sight as they can. But I have yet to move, my gaze trapped by that of the other me. The deceased me.

The sight leaves me with several questions, too, and I wonder how I will die. Will it be soon? Or will I miraculously survive the hundred days that Ji-han is gone and the long year and a half Jimin is away touring the world?

"Jae-hyun?" In the form of a hushed whisper, my own name is on my lips. But only mine. The mouth of my reflection does not move. Much like Jimin and even Ji-han, I do not control this one's actions. Though not because it has a mind of its own. You can't control what is already dead.