Catharsis ▪︎ minsung

.. .----. -- / .... . .-. .

Ladies and gentlemen,
please take your seats
Our story is about to begin

Salvation cries but all I can see
Is darkness, following me

🐈‍⬛

I'm here

"The awaited yearly 3 planetary conjunctions will take place tonight as of NASA's reports..."

The news echoed on the flat, as Jisung woke up.

Squinting his eyes open. The eerie and empty feeling in waking up never ceased.
The concrete ceiling was colored red due to the sun rays coming through the tainted windows. It was rustic and industrial, concrete, pipes and steel jutting out. Jisung had lived in much worse premises before, all of this? It doesn't make any difference.

He got up from the bed, throwing the blankets aside, and put on his fluffy slippers.

"It came earlier this year." He sighed. Jisung stretched out his fingers looking and searching for the other set of bigger fingers that would fit right there perfectly. He can feel him approaching. Scatching the back of his head, rather irritating.

"What's the rush, baby?" He shrugs as if he's talking to someone who can probably hear him.

Jisung went to the fridge and turned to look at the flashing lights of the television screen that he did not turn off yesterday as he grabs his milk for cereals.

Three cats came brushing on his fluffy pink pajamas.

Of course, soonie, doongie, and dori must have their breakfast.

"Come on, babies." He mumbled as he prepared their bowls of food each and feed them according to age, oldest first.

It's strabge. These conjunctions happen yearly now and are not a rare occasion anymore. It came earlier this time though. But the only thing Jisung hates about it is that during conjunctions his senses are amplified to the extent that he starts to detect things he shouldn't. He sees all the calamities in manifestations of devils or monsters, so they call it.

He wasn't that prepared for the yearly visit this time around and he didn't even got the chance to take a leave.

The shop he works at still needs to be opened.

He works as a cashier at an antique album shop. These days, pieces of vinyl are very expensive and rare. CD players or anything physical is unknown for, Humans have evolved so much that they are able to live more than centuries in a normal lifespan and it was unfair.

For him and Minho.

Everything's digital and holograms nowadays. Neon lights and robotic arms wash up the central.

He doesn't care about the luxury and have always preferred the old ways along with the nostalgia it brings. The world has progressed too fast lately, that what seemed to be a decade worth of development just happened in a span of 10 years.

Trailing out of his thoughts, His grip tightened a little and he broke his mug.

"Ah fuck-"

He snapped out of his thoughts as it shattered on his hand and to the floor, while the news still acts as white noises in the background.

Shards of ceramic glass pierced his palms. His skin started oozing with heavy amounts of blood as he carefully picked the glass little by little off of him.

He walked through the messy floor mixed with warm tonic and broken glass. Not minding getting more wounds than he already has.

He hissed fiercely at the three cats to not come close and the little felines scrambled on their cat tree for them to not get hurt.

He went straight to their bathroom and cleaned himself until the blood was no more. Jisung dressed up for today in front of the mirror, with smooth pearly skin, imagining the hands that once lingered on his body.

He slipped in his black bodysuit, It's his yearly uniform for the trip whenever the conjunction appears. Neck and arms hugged by the nylon and cotton compound. He tied his neck with long blue hair on a messy low bun. His black nail polish hiding his natural purplish nails. He put on his combat boots, tying them both in an ugly double knot, and pushed the laces on the sides.

He finished his look by putting over knee-high loose shorts, a baggy shirt, a white hoodie atop, exposing the long black clothing that's covering his sleeves and legs.

He took a whiff in the air. He can smell the newly baked croissants being put on the display case on the patisserie down the street.

He's still hungry.

The grassy orphanage he grew up with was more lively than the hospitals and technology center he was transferred to after being sold and bought.

He was granted freedom after the fire that set the whole institute to ashes. Papers and governments proceedings and being cuffed, dressed in white overalls.

All that.

Maybe that is why he has an attachment to his black and white clothing.

He washed the dishes after finishing his lovely colorful bowl of cereal contrasting the dreary colors of their apartment. Wiped the floor clean.

He took his sling bag with all his necessities.

"Guard the house, boys," he whispered with a smile. Kissing the three cats each gently. Each purred and meowed at the affection.

"Baby, see ya." He took his keys and bid goodbye to the picture frame sitting on the shelf. Two young figures smiling happily.  

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