≠ // {HYYH}

Just because you've forgotten doesn't mean you're forgiven

The plush pillows covering the walls, floor, and ceiling made the room feel way smaller than it was. He sat there, in the middle of the room, waiting. For what exactly, he didn't know, but he was waiting with excitement pulsing through his veins. He knew something was going to happen.

The sound of a loud alarm startled him, but he kept still as the room filled up with thousands of pills in different shapes and colors. They were all familiar to him, and his whole being ached to reach for a handful to make his stay in this room more bearable. But he kept his hands crossed against his chest, refusing to fall for the temptation even when he craved feeling alive, a feeling that a mixture of these pills would easily mimic.

He got up, tracing his hand on the padded ceiling as he walked towards the sealed door, peeking out of the little keyhole, trying to see what was on the other side. A smile took over his features when he saw his friends approaching the door with his uncle following them with a key in his hand.

He couldn't contain his excitement and held onto the door, waiting for it to open, but it didn't. He leaned down to peek to see everyone trying to open the door but the door wouldn't budge. He noticed the strain in his hands and noticed that the reason behind the door not opening was that he was keeping it shut with everything he had in him.

"hyung, Please come back to us" He heard Jimin tearfully speak. It made his heart hurt since he could imagine how much pain his disappearance had caused. He tried to get his hands off the handle but many things were holding him back. Fears that he had drowned with narcotics resurfacing and making their presence known once again.

He realized that his hands were now glued to the handle, which made it even harder and more painful for him to let go, but he kept trying. Screaming through the pain just to be reunited with the people that care about him.

It felt like days of him crying and trying to let go of the door so that it could be opened. The voices on the other side of the door getting further and further with each passing day. When he finally let go and pushed the door open, expecting to see familiar faces waiting for him, there was no one. He was standing there alone. Seeing the signs that people were there waiting for him, but they were no longer there.

"Guys? Jiminnie?" He called as he cautiously stepped out of the little room he was in, thinking that maybe he was pranked and that at any time someone would jump out and startle him, but the surprise he anticipated never came.

Where he was standing felt scary and unfamiliar, he didn't know where he was going nor where he should be heading to. There was a pull, leading him back to the room he stayed in, it was the only place he felt comfortable and safe in. It was the only place where no one could hurt him except himself.

He stepped into the room, still unsure if he wanted to stay here or go back out there to explore. The door slammed shut before he could even make up his mind, and this time the handle, along with the lock were melted, trapping him in a place where he couldn't get himself out without help.

≠≠≠

The beeping sound of the alarm did not annoy him as much as it used to, he didn't feel assaulted by the sound, nor the sunshine beams shining through the curtains. He got up, stretching his limbs before rolling out of bed to wash up. He knew that if he didn't change out of his comfortable clothes his whole day will be stained with a lazy haze, and he would end up regretting not doing anything with his time.

This is how it had been for the past month he had been home. It started as a safety precaution but ended up morphing into a habit that he was getting comfortable in. He had his little routine where he felt like he was being productive, even when he really wasn't. He liked it this way. It was simple.