The Fantastic Eight: Abnormals

chapter ten: jimin doesn't drown the one time he wants to

listen to "body" by mother mother during this chapter to eNhAnCe the experience.
WARNING: Mentioned / Attempted Suicide

There have been many times in life where Jimin felt like screaming. Many, many times. But this wasn't one of them. This was a time where Jimin felt like not existing at all. Where he felt either everything or nothing at all.

His skin buzzed like TV static and his lungs glitched in a way that was  all too familiar.

To put it simply, Jimin felt as if he was slowly dying and there were hundreds of onlookers that couldn't care less.

Well, really there were only two onlookers but that didn't truly make any difference.

Jimin had lived with his grandparents for 6 years. He had lost his mother and father in a house fire while he was sleeping over at a friend's house. As a result, Jimin had been moved to a different city, leaving all his friends, his family home and everything he'd ever known in exchange for a new life with his hot and cold grandparents. His grandfather didn't care enough and his grandmother too much, causing an overbearing and tense pressure around the room whenever they were together. Although he had literally lost his fucking parents, Jimin did not go to therapy, nor did anyone check up on how he was feeling. His grandparents avoided the topic altogether, "Yeah, your mom and dad are dead but what do you want for dinner?".

Jimin woke up one morning, his parents were gone, and he was giving nothing more than a vague explanation as if his parents didn't matter at all.

And it was a constant cycle of either being shut out or overwhelmed, as if Jimin now lived a life of all or nothing.

Jimin was currently at the "nothing" part of the cycle and he's gone this route enough to know where it goes.

Jimin sat on his bed late that night, it was 2:45 am and he had just woken up. He had slept all day and hadn't eaten a thing but he wasn't unused to the feeling of sleeping on an empty stomach. Especially when his grandmother wasn't home, he'd rather go hungry than eat alone with his grandfather.

This was one of those nights, where the overbearing pressure no longer lingered in the house but the tense cold of his grandfather still purged on, seeping under Jimin's door and into his bathroom.

He wanted to get up but Jimin was tired, his lungs felt as if the air was no longer familiar and it shuttered and shook with each breath.

He eyed the prescribed sleeping pills on his night counter, his eyes so intense on the thing it was like he was burning a hole through it. Jimin was unhappy and most days he could avoid all those feelings with enough hours of sleep, waking up, going about his bedroom for a couple of hours before taking the pills to fall asleep again. Yet, Jimin had the sudden feeling that sleep wouldn't cut it anymore.

Jimin stood up, his legs finally touching the cold floor of his equally stiff bedroom and trailing blazing footsteps in the direction of his personal bathroom. He could hear his grandpa watching TV as he looked in the mirror at his own ghastly reflection. Jimin wasn't ugly, he was quite handsome in fact and he definitely looked well-rested with the amount of sleep he has but Jimin still felt imperfect, incomplete. Sometimes he wishes he could take his eyes away so he would never have to look at whatever the hell he's become ever again.

Jimin suddenly remembers the times when he was young, how happy he was with his parents. How full of life he was with his friends. He didn't have that anymore, he had nothing at all. He was alive but he felt as if he was already dead. Maybe he shouldn't have slept over at his friend's house that night. Maybe he should've burned or choked on smoke along with his parents.