[Completed]
Jimin coughed. There was smoke floating in through the window. He could barely breathe.
He was all alone now.
The world was blazing.
(Platonic Jinmin)
Started: April 17th 2021
Finished: October 31st 2022
Best ranking: #2 in warau
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Jimin had learned over the course of the last few weeks, months, maybe even the year, that loneliness was a critically underrated weapon. It killed slowly, but mercilessly. The constant agony of not having anyone to talk to drove people insane within a matter of weeks. He often wondered had anyone been with him during this time, would his experience be a little easier? Maybe he would have a stronger reason to open his eyes in the morning. Maybe he would have retained some remnants of the cheerful personality he used to have.
But as much as he wished, he was by himself.
The other people had left, leaving him with a bullet in his leg and tears in his eyes. The pack of unopened water bottles was a few inches away from him. Jimin was starting to get thirsty. His mouth taunted him.
Before, they had all been given first-aid lessons. It had been one of those long-winded classes with the PowerPoint presentations, the ones that both Jimin and Jin had hated. They were supposed to take notes. The two goofed around instead, passing each other notes about what kind of musical they wanted to take part in. They hadn't gotten caught. Namjoon had paid attention and Jimin made sure to get the notes from him later.
Namjoon... Jimin wondered where he was now. Was he safe? Was he alright? Did his face still light up like a lighthouse when he caught sight of a crab?
Jungkook and Taehyung... he had no clue about them either. Hopefully they were all okay. What about Hoseok and Yoongi? Were they okay?
Jimin, fortunately, still had his first aid kit with him. It was tucked underneath the safety of his uniform, the strap tied tightly around his waist. He stripped it open now. He took a heavy gauze bandage and fastened it sloppily across his leg. It looked weird.
There was blood on the bandage almost immediately. Should he have washed the area first? Jimin didn't know. Ah well. It was too late. He wasn't going to waste a precious resource.
He finally managed to rip one of the water bottles out of the packaging and started drinking. The cool taste of water would've comforted him but the gnawing and nibbling in his leg was too intense. Jimin whimpered. He wished he wasn't by himself.
Painkillers! He had painkillers with him!
Jimin dug through the bag again. There were only one or two pills available. He choked one down, immediately taking a giant sip of water right after. It didn't help with the pain at all.
With a sigh, Jimin gave up. He gritted his teeth. Hopefully the pain would go away after a while. Or maybe he would get used to it. He could hope.
Gun... gun... where did he put his-
Jimin eyed every corner of the kitchen. His gun couldn't have fallen far from here, he was sure! He grabbed onto a handle in a cabinet and dragged himself up. Jimin didn't let his bad leg touch the ground and hobbled a few steps across. Gun... where had he put it...
Damn. The people must've taken it with them. Jimin was defenseless. If anybody came to attack him, he had no way of protecting himself.
A new idea came to him. Was there a kitchen knife?
There were a few drawers. Jimin tugged them open, it taking all his strength. He was tired. He wanted food.
Except for a few Ziplock bags and a roll of aluminum foil, the first drawer was empty. The second one had a box of elastic bands and pencil crayons. The third one had a knife case, but it was empty, except for a rusted old paring knife. It would probably bend over and snap if Jimin tried to stab something with it.
He took it anyway. All he had.
He wondered if he should go upstairs. There seemed to be a better chance of survival if he was in a more secure place.
If someone came to attack him, he could throw his kit bag down to stall them. Then he could hobble downstairs to hit them with his knife. It was a dumb plan, it wouldn't work at all. But maybe, it was better than letting himself be an open target in the kitchen. There were windows everywhere on the main floor. People could stand outside and get a clear view of him.
Jimin threw his belongings over his shoulder and staggered towards the staircase. There was a dull thump in the distance. Great. Hopefully the house wouldn't start shaking.
With one hand on the wall and one hand on the railing, Jimin hopped up on the first step. His injured leg seemed to hurt even more. He gritted his teeth. Jimin remembered playing hopscotch in elementary school, remembering it brought a faint smile to his face.
There was another loud thump. Jimin heard one of the windows shatter. They were getting closer. He slumped down onto the stair he had been standing on. Better stay here. He didn't want to move when mayhem was going on outside.
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Three hours later, Jimin got up from the stairs. His back hurt from the weird position he was in, and his arms and legs had fallen asleep. Jimin felt like laying down and giving up. There was no way he was getting out of this alive.
The biting and gnawing in his leg had not let up, it was just as strong and unbearable.
He could smell the stench of burnt grass and metal from outside. Jimin's eyes watered. He reached up and grabbed the railing again, pulling himself up. The familiar stab of pain ran through his leg again and he flopped down, a soft sob ripping his throat. His head smacked on the wall, and he cried harder. He had had no food for nearly two days. He hadn't gotten any proper sleep. Jimin didn't know what to do.
He felt hungry. Jimin was tired. He should just give up. He had no clue where everyone else was. He was by himself, in the middle of nowhere.
