Pairing: Jimin x Y/N
Synopsis: How do you help someone with their emotions if you don’t feel emotions? When your brother’s best friend dies in a tragic car accident and he spirals downwards in depression, you devote yourself to helping him out of his misery. But when his other best friend becomes suicidal following the loss, it isn’t merely about helping them. It’s about saving them.
Word count: 1400+
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The only word that can explain my situation.
Sleeping is hard.
Pretending to be okay is hard.
Breathing is hard.
Staying alive is very hard.
Every passing morning I wake up, I wish I didn’t. Waking up to an eerily quiet apartment, walking down the over crowded streets feeling alone and pulling through the day with all the energy I have is mentally and physically exhausting.
My therapist was kind, too kind for my liking. A young, dynamic woman interested in helping those who came to her. She suggested a lot of changes to my lifestyle that would help me move on.
I appreciate her efforts, but she did not see the bigger problem. It wasn’t that I was unable to move on, I refused to move on.
I was afraid of getting comfortable in a world without him.
The idea of waking up one morning, brewing myself bitter coffee that he hated, hustling through work and going for a walk in the park on a Tuesday evening with a smile on my face pretending like I’m alive and kicking made me sick. The day he died, I did too. The only difference between my dead best friend and I is that his body died too, whereas mine survived.
It survived when I tried to cut myself open, the pain on my skin barely felt against the pain in my head.
Watching the thick blood gushing out through the wounds I’ve inflicted on myself using the shiny kitchen knife was less horrifying than watching his wooden casket lowered to the ground.
My body survived the multiple drug intake that would’ve killed anyone else. Feeling my face hit the cold bathroom floor before the lights in my head went out as I blacked out was less scary than going to bed that night knowing every tomorrow then onwards would be a day away from our last day together.
I don’t know how long I was unconscious on the floor as the drugs attempted to slowly took my life before Jungkook found me in my apartment. I don’t even know how the guy let himself in. He probably used the spare key Taehyung let him borrow.
The name pierces my chest. My mouth feels dry, my cheeks sunken in. If pain was a taste, it would be all-too-familiar for my hallucinating tongue.
I hate him for leaving us. But I hate myself for putting him in a situation where we lost him. I hate myself for being the first one to wake up in the toppled car that day. I hate myself for looking over at him and helplessly watching him draw his last breath. I hate myself for crying while my best friends were bleeding to death in the burning car.
By a miracle Jungkook and I survived. Neither of us sustained any injuries to the head, fortunately. Jungkook fractured his left arm and broke a few ribs. I broke a few ribs and fractured my right leg. With the help of a cast and rest, we both recovered in 3 weeks.
The doctors kept telling us we were lucky ones, to heal from such wounds in such a short period of time. They told us we were lucky enough to have survived such a crash.
The car had collided with an oncoming truck carrying wood and rolled 18 meters before coming to a stop.
It had been crushed from the side he was seated on. Paramedics said the car door had to be removed from his body. His insides were like water, his guts shapeless.
The blunt force of metal crashing against him had cracked his skull, causing internal bleeding. Doctors said he died a very painful death and I asked them why.
Why did Taehyung suffer that way? Why did Taehyung go through so much of pain?
The guy who plays with children on the street, the guy who helps the blind man cross the street to the bakery around the block every weekend, the guy who rescues stray cats and dogs and takes them to the vet, spending on their treatment with his own pocket money before taking them to adoption centres. The guy with the golden heart.
The world is full of shitty people; murderers, rapists, abusers. They roam the face of the planet with blood on their hands and sin in her souls and Taehyung was taken away painfully?
I open my eyes to wake up from the thinking, to end the painful conversation I always have with myself.
Opening my eyes slowly, I take in the silent room. A slit of sunlight tears through the dark, not enough to illuminate the room.
It was very kind of Jungkook to take me in and as much as I love the guy, I wouldn’t say I am entirely comfortable sharing his space.
I want to be alone, to remember and regret.
The whole accident... I didn’t have enough time to process it with the funeral happening too soon and my mind poisoning me with guilt.
I keep telling myself there was absolutely nothing I could’ve done to save him, he died before help arrived. Had he survived by any miracle, he would live a miserable life; a half dead vegetable rotting away on bed till his body gets too old to live. We all know Taehyung would’ve hated that.
But thinking of all the things we could’ve done differently, like other ways we could’ve spent that day instead of drunk driving, sends a cold jab through my windpipe, not allowing me to breathe setting my lungs on fire.
I get out of bed, pushing away the dark sheets that cannot engulf me in enough warmth. I trace my fingers along the wall looking for the light switch.
Finding it I switch it on.
Blinding white light fills the room, my eyes squinting against the amount of sudden light.
It all happens too quick.
The dull silence of the room.
It all takes me back to the hospital room.
Bright white light. Too bright for me to fully open my eyes and take in the people silently rushing around me.
The only sound the beeping of my heart monitor.
My ears pick up inaudible voices. Someone with a deep voice. Someone with a raspy voice. A female voice.
“He was dead when they got there”
“..... they had to remove parts of the car from him. The entire door was jammed into his side”
A few gasps echo in the room.
“...... internal bleeding [inaudible] painful last moments”
“He’s stable I just checked”
Breathing was hard. I need air.
The beeping got louder, scarier.
Words were thrown across the room.
“Patient is crashing!”
“Get the doctor!”
“Oh my God his vitals are dropping”
Where are they?
I was screaming but no one seemed to hear.
The insides of my head were throbbing, my lungs begging for air and fear wetting my eyes.
I need them.
Someone please tell them I’m calling for them.
I feel heavy and light at the same time. I can taste bile in my mouth. I have a nasty gut feeling.
Why are people panicking around me?
I should be the one panicking! I’m all alone chained onto a bed that’s not mine with tubes inserted through multiple cuts in my body and I don’t see any of my friends next to me!
“Charge at 200 volts!”
“Push the tray this way!”
“Ask Henry to immediately get his ass in here!”
Static. The sound of a walkie talkie being turned on.
“Henry you are required in the theatre. It’s an emergency!”
Shut up shut up shut up somebody please make them shut up!
The voices make my ears bleed. My brain hurts trying to process what they are shouting to each other.
Taehyung! I scream.
Where’s my voice?
Why did no sound come out?
The light is too bright. I can’t open my eyes.
Where are you?!
“Jimin hyung look at me!”
Why are you shouting Jungkook?
I feel someone roughly grabbing my arms. Pulling me down. Sitting me down on the wooden floor. My bottom shivers when it comes in contact with the cold floor.
“Hyung! Look at me”
Why do you sound so desperate Jungkook?
Where are the doctors and nurses who were here just a minute ago?
“Hyung, hyung! Just look at me”
Jungkook’s weak cries turn my face towards him. I blink as I take in his broken expression.
Why does Jungkook look so sad?
I look around the room.
I don’t see the hospital bed. Where is my heart monitor?
A girl with a horrified expression pasted on her pretty face looms over me.
I look at my friend confusingly.
“Jungkook, where’s Taehyung?”
I watched as a light go out in Jungkook’s eyes.
Where is Taehyung?