Yoongi: 2 May Year 22

The burning bed sheet went up in flames in an instant. The existence of every shabby little thing in the room was lost in the unbearable heat. I could no longer sense the strong moldy smell, the mysterious humidity, and the damp light. The only thing left was pain. Physical pain from the heat. My skin and the ends of my fingers were so hot that it was like blisters formed and then instantaneously melted. It wasn’t until then that my father’s expressionless face and the sound of music dissolved away. 

 

My father and I were very different. My father didn’t understand me, and I didn’t understand him. If I had tried, would I be able to convince him? Probably not. I only hid what I could do, rebelled against him, and ran away. After that, there was a time when I realized that it wasn’t my father that I was getting away from. When I realized that, fear that stood tall like a cliff flooded through me. What was I running away from anyway? How can I get away from myself? Everything felt impossible. 

 

I felt like I heard the sound of someone calling out to me, but I couldn’t lift my head. I don’t know if it was because of the heat or the pain, but I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t have the strength to move. Even so, I knew who it was. It was Jungkook. I’m sure he was angry. Maybe he even felt bad for me. I just wanted to sink down and sit. I wanted to end the smoke and the heat, all the pain and the fear, right here. Jungkook shouted something again, but I still couldn’t hear him. My vision started to fade away. The very last thing I saw, the last thing I saw on Earth was the dirty, isolated room, the scarlet flames and rolling smoke, and Jungkook’s face.

 

@shootinghearts_