UP THERE. | ジグク [DISCONTINUED]

three :: drifting away.

三 | drifting away.
_______________

july 12th, 2017.

there i stood, cross-legged, facing a picture of my love, multicolored flowers and offerings set on a shrine, framing the image and filling the small, extremely hot room i sat in.

despite the seemingly unbearable heat, i felt so cold.

the endless amount of crimson roses, gladioli, carnations, orchids and whatnot submerged the room in a bittersweet slow dance, pigment tinting my vision, yet those colors failing to liven up my existence. i felt like a blank canvas; ready to be drowned in different shades of the rainbow, ready to be used as a vessel holding an epitome of beauty, but each stroke of color that would gently kiss my flat, white surface would appear as black; pitch black. static. nothing more. monochrome, lifeless.

i was tainted with sorrow.

that was all i was. lacking life, lacking color. a robot, designed only to exist, doing so with no particular reason. holding no meaning anymore. nothing but flesh, bones, and a beating heart. i'm pretty sure that last statement could easily pass as debatable. i had felt the aforementioned organ shatter against my rib cage, destroying each and every single thread of hope residing within my body. my heart was being nothing more than decoration, its rhythmic beats serving as the only source of sound in the quiet room i stood in.

i wished the fist-sized piece of flesh would stop pounding already.

every move drained me, and i couldn't take my eyes off of the small image of my love in front of me, craving to run my fingers through his blonde, curly locks, to have him in my arms as we talked and talked about anything, curled up in an office chair, the seat being barely large enough to fit both of our tangled bodies.

but the closest i could be to him was here, sitting on the wooden, mahogany floor of a slightly cramped funeral room. i couldn't reach through the image, as much as i wanted to, as much as i needed to. i couldn't be here with him anymore.

why didn't i leave instead?

i didn't have the strength to cry. i barely had the energy to speak.

i remained immobile, watching two honey-colored irises stare at me, a smile present in the warm eyes holding them, knowing that no matter how much i tried, i couldn't stare back with the same happiness.

i had lost everything.

the love of my life, our burning passion or each other, for our music, hell, even my goddamned leg! hilarious, how the world can treat you so beautifully and turn everything around in a split second, right?

i really couldn't help but crack a smile at that thought. why? in the best of moments, why did everything have to crumble to pieces so abruptly?

did i do something wrong? was karma getting back at me? i couldn't understand anything.

all that i could comprehend was that the shining rays of the sun were now covered. the sun that once shone bright on my life. but now, big, dark clouds shielded the sunlight from reaching me, my frail existence. rain poured down on me, drenched me in cold, freezing water, every new drop colliding against my head reminding me of my sentence. my sentence in this dark hell.

don't cry. you're not supposed to cry. father wouldn't want you to sob your eyes out at a funeral. it's against traditions. you're a man, jeongguk, you're all grown up.

i fiddled with the silver ring on my left hand, a shaky breath leaving my lips. for how long had i been standing there, looking back into jimin's eyes? i didn't want to know.

the sliding door behind me opened, small, almost hesitant footsteps finding themselves to my crouched body. "jeongguk?" a familiar voice called.

i didn't reply. i didn't move my gaze away from the picture, nor did i flinch at the cold sensation on my shoulder as i realized my too-large black sweater was dropping off of my shoulder.

"come with me, eat something, please rest with us, ggukie. you can come back after that," the same, raspy voice asked, a hint of worry in the sound emitted from the pouty lips it came from.

i shook my head no. why would i even remotely think about standing up? why would i ever tell myself it was okay to leave this room? i didn't deserve anything. this was all my fault.

"i know it's a necessity to stay here for three days, but you've been sitting in this very spot for more than twenty hou—"

"it's okay," i weakly whispered, cutting off the man before he could finish his phrase.

feeling like a small child going through his parent's divorce. blank. emotionless. completely drained of any thoughts.

a child knowing their life was crumbled, knowing nothing would be the same after, but also knowing they couldn't do anything to help it.

feeling overpowered by destiny, frustrated at the idea of being powerless. like a soldier stripped of his armor and weapons, dumped in the middle of the battlefield.

why? why did i deserve this?

"stop lying to yourself. please, come out and eat something."

"no. it's fine," i silently murmured, head pounding, eyes still locked with the ones printed in front of me. my hands clenched and unclenched around air, praying the emptiness, the cold against my palm would be replaced by a warm hand. a specific, small, warm hand.

so much pain, all directed at me. i felt so small, so weak, surrounded by flowers that ironically munched at my heart, in a tiny room i could barely breathe in. i wasn't sure if the breathing issue was caused by the cramped area, or if it was all the work of my clenched throat, struggling to contain my sobs.

"come on, ggukie. you need to function properly, okay? please?" a different voice asked. i wasn't sure if maybe my brain was playing tricks on me and the same voice as before was speaking, i didn't want to know. i didn't care anymore.

"we can't eat in here, love. stand up for me, okay?" the person gently ordered again, nudging my shoulder. i didn't move a bit, a familiar stinging sensation prickling at my eyes, who were red from fatigue, overworked. overworked from staring at the same rectangle for— how much time? twenty hours, the boy had said.

i yelped, the first sound leaving my mouth being louder than a whisper, my voice unsurprisingly coming out as raspy and dehydrated, as i felt myself being lifted and thrown over someone's shoulder, then carried out of the room.

i watched jimin's portrait grow smaller and smaller as i was taken away, the rectangle shrinking more and more until—

slam.

the sliding door of the funeral room was shut.

"no! please, please, i have to stay, i–i need to, i have to, p–please!" i pathetically cried, begged, a few tears dripping down – or maybe up, given my position – and falling to the wooden floor. "please."

"you have to eat something, dear," the man called. i clawed at his shirt from the back, like a desperate, pathetic child asking their mother for sweets at a festival.

i was quite comparable to a child, for a few years. a depressed, unmotivated, suicidal child, that is. a child having lost his childhood too soon for their own good.

the man's breath slightly hitched at my calls, my broken pleas for him to go back, yet, seemingly nothing could make his stride come to a halt.

and at one point, i simply crashed down and let myself be taken wherever i could go.

doing what i was best at doing.

letting life drift me away, like a boat being taken away by current. wherever i ended up being, i couldn't care less. drifting away, carried by gentle waves called existence, a rough wind called pain. being taken to whatever more shores there were to visit.

whatever would happen to me, i couldn't care less.

that seemed to be my motto for a while.

[ ♪ ]