It Follows {Book One}

08

Tuesday, August 8
24 days

•Jisung & Chenle•

Jisung tore another piece of cardboard off of the makeshift wall. He pounded his fist on the metal shelf beneath him. Chenle reached up and passed the lighter through the thin bars. Jisung held it in his hand for a few minutes, turning it in his fingers. The little smiley face Chenle had drawn on it with a permanent marker was starting to rub off, and look more like Yukhei when he was trying to lie, but his half-smirk always gave him away. Jisung had stolen the lighter from Jungwoo—not that the elder noticed, he had several others stashed away in a box under his bed along with a bag of herbs. Jisung didn't know why he was trying to hide kitchen supplies in his bedroom, but he couldn't ask, otherwise Jungwoo would find out about the stolen lighter .

It took him a few tries to light it, thanks to his sweaty fingers—he felt the need to ball his hands into fists at all times.

Three or four years ago, Jisung was a nail-biter. That was normal, lots of kids bit their nails, and he had seen plenty of adults doing it too. But when he had bitten off all of his nails, having gotten so low that they were almost non-existent, he needed to bite something or else he'd go crazy. So instead, he bit the skin around his fingers. His fingers were in awful shape, constantly covered in dried blood and jagged edges of nail that had been trying to grow back, but Jisung wouldn't ever let them.

After half a year of having practically useless hands, because they bled ever time he tried to tie his shoes or open a carton of chocolate milk, his mother bought him a pair of red gloves. He wore them all day and night, the thick fabric keeping him from biting his fingers in his sleep. After a while, he broke the habit, and instead he carried around an old shoelace that he constantly tied and untied knots to keep himself occupied.

His nails had finally grown out, and for a while, he refused to cut them. That is, until Chenle ended up getting badly cut in a 'freak trampoline accident' that involved Chenle's cheek, Jisung's talons, and a trip to the hospital that ended with two stitches.

Jisung went home and cut his nails.

"We're gonna need more boxes soon," Chenle said as he crawled up onto the second shelf, and plopped down next to Jisung. "If you're gonna keep burning it, I mean."

Jisung pointed the tiny flame at Chenle, which wasn't very threatening but got the point across. Jisung sighed and lifted his thumb off the lighter, closing it in his palm. He didn't mind Chenle's nagging, at least now he wasn't complaining about his dark roots showing and the hot pink direct dye had faded completely, and was now left yellow.

Jisung watched the burning strip of cardboard until it was reduced to ash. The two sat there in silence for a while, Jisung drawing in the ash, and Chenle leaning into his side as he stared at the other end of the shelf.

Jisung could feel his head begining to throb, but he didn't think much of it. He got headaches in school quite often. Stress, he figured. But the longer he sat there, the pain evolved from an ache to a sharp, stabbing pain on his temples. A sudden wave of nausea washed over him, and he slowly leaned forward. It came out of nowhere. He felt like his chest was closing around his lungs, crushing them and leaving him breathless.

"Chenle," He managed.

Chenle, who had been just about to fall asleep, pursed his lips. "You know, I'm actually starting to worry that you're gonna end up being an arsonist or something," He shook his head, and opened his mouth to continue, but Jisung grabbed his arm. "Dude, what?"

"I don't feel good."

"Don't puke on me, I'll kill you."

"It's not like that," Jisung shook his head. Chenle could see the color draining from his face. "Get Taeyong."

Chenle sat there for a second, Jisung's breaths grew louder and more forced. Jisung's arms shot out, and a look of panic replaced the previous confused expression, and Chenle physically couldn't bring himself to move, though he knew he had to. Jisung's pupils were dilated far enough to scare Chenle, something was very wrong. "Taeyong!" He finally yelled as he wrapped both arms around Jisung's waist and tried pulling him out of their box fort, but Jisung was a lot harder to carry, or in this case, drag, than he remembered.

Chenle suddenly felt himself being pushed out of the way the moment he stepped out into the store, and Jisung was pulled away. "What happened?" Kun asked, running over just after Taeyong had.

"I-I don't know, he just . . . " Chenle turned his head to the side, standing up on his toes to try and see over Johnny's shoulder, but he stood as a barrier between him and Jisung, and frankly, he didn't like it. "He said he didn't feel good. And then this."

"That's weird."

Yuta coughed. "Actually, it isn't. There's only a few weeks left, and the air is only going to get worse. It's gradual, not like we're going to all die at once."

Chenle's eyes widened. "Jisung's gonna die!?"

"No, no one's dying," Taeyong leaned around Johnny to send Yuta a sideways glare. "He's probably just got a stomach virus or something."

"Then why couldn't he breathe?"

"Uh... respiratory. Stuff. Lungs and shit. Nothing an inhaler can't fix, right Yuta?"

"Whatever."