Spiraling | BTS OT7 Fanfic

#01 Breaking Point

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3 MONTHS AGO

Everyone's pain tolerance is different, whether it's physical or emotional. I always felt like I was one of the strong ones. I've been telling myself repeatedly I'm going to heal, it will be okay and that things happen for a reason... but what was the reason for this.

This gloomy spring day seems to grow colder. I know I need to be strong, but my legs give out as they lower the coffin into the ground. My knees press roughly against the dampened earth. I want to scream at the world for dealing me these constant blows, making me numb to my own emotions.

Approaching footsteps crunch the grass behind me and I feel a warm touch on my back, probably meant to comfort me. This is more than pain, it's torture, I'm so broken that I can't shed tears for the man who did everything for me.

Why?

This emptiness feels heavy, weighing down on my soul. I look away in horror as roses begin to flood the open grave. It doesn't feel real, I don't want it to be.

"Y/N?" The familiar voice makes me flinch, he crouches down beside me in his black attire, face pale and partially shielded with dark fancy sunglasses. He begins to unravel in front of me, lips trembling with sadness. His attention seems to be focused on the sole white flower tightly in his grasp. Naturally I attempt to console him, burying my self-pity and dazed mind to solely focus on my stepbrother.

"I love him so much, I can't--" His voice cracks as he starts to sob uncontrollably. The sight of him coming undone to our reality hurts, there is nothing I can do to help him. I stare into the distance unable to handle it. 

Across from the gravesite I notice one of the many unfamiliar guests. She tries to sneakily angle her phone in our direction. Rage consumes me, and as much as I want to strangle her and break her stupid pink phone in half, I don't. Instead, I shift my back towards her hopefully hiding the view of the man in shambles in front of me. I rest my hand on his and notice the rose still in his care, his knuckles pale making me question if he will ever let it go.

"You should throw it. For him. From the both of us." I suggest.

He keeps very still. It feels as if the world has paused just for us. A moment to process our feelings and cope with our emotions.

He gives a slight nod and sniffles. "Together." He breathes in agreement.

Being supportive, I grab the end of the stem below his closed fist, and all too soon it was gone. I don't check where it landed, all I know is that it's away from us and now with him.  

Lifting my head up I notice my stepmother a few paces away. Her black dress moving slightly in the wind and her face swollen with sorrow. Her sister who has barely left her side holds her. I never got to know my birth mom. This woman took care of me these past 12 years as if I was her own. I respect her and my heart aches that she has to go through this. We don't share the same blood, but I consider her my mother. My brother next to me; They are my family, the only people left to give that title.

A middle-aged man with gray hair approaches us. He pats my brother on the back as if he's some dog. "Sorry for your loss." He directs to the both of us.

"Leave us be!" I snap angered by the people who won't let us grieve in peace.

A flash of confusion spreads across the unknown guy's face before turning away and heading to a group of strangers. The disrespectful bunch can't seem to mind their damn business, sharing whispers and glancing in our direction.

"It's okay—my uncle—mom's side." He hiccups. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come here." He breaks down once more causing me to embrace him.

"No, fuck that." I scold sternly. "You have every right to be here, he loved you so much. Don't you dare say that." My assurance of his attendance seems to have made him weaker, but it's the truth. I don't care about the excessive stares or the robotic vocals expressing their condolences. Fuck all of them for making him question his last goodbye.

My stepmother appears next to us adjusting her tortoise shell frames over her eyes, her reddish toned hair wisping in the wind. I help the defeated male at my side to his feet. Studying her dampened face, I know that no words can console her, there is nothing to be said. I reach for my family and take them in my arms allowing them to let out their emotions. As for me, I want to be strong. Strong like the rock we lost too soon.

I'll take care of them dad.

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We walk back to the car and the cool spring air rushes through me as if I'm just a hollow shell. I hold on to my stepmother who wears my coat while her sister walks closely behind us. My stepbrother is a couple yards away conversing with the guy wearing all black. He takes notice of us and hurries to me leaving the stranger alone.

"Hey, can I talk to you for a second." He pulls me aside.

"I'm going to ride with him, he's a friend. I just don't want any extra attention on us." He looks down with a shameful expression. I rest my hand on his shoulder and nod my head understanding his reason. "I'll come back tonight." He assures removing his sunglasses. His eyes are swollen and red, it hurts to see him this way.

I shake my head again and give him a long hug. "Thank you. And please, stop worrying." My voice sounds distant, unrecognizable to me.

We break away and he studies my face. "It's okay to be sad." His words make me fidget in place and I stare into the distance avoiding his concern. "I can't imagine what you're going though, your dad— everything. There's no words." His voice grows weaker.

I scan my surroundings to see if we are being watched, but the only person I notice is his friend who patiently waits beside a dark SUV. It was thoughtful of him to give us our privacy during the whole ceremony, he kept his distance and stayed with the parked cars. I realize another guy waits in the driver seat, probably a personal chauffeur. "Your mom and aunt really want to go home away from all this, I'll let her know your plans." I simply say giving another quick goodbye.

He doesn't seem too fond of me ignoring his acknowledgment of my misfortune. We go our separate ways and part of me wishes he could come with us. I don't think I can handle the tears of his mother dealing with the loss of her husband who she loved unconditionally. 

I honestly just want to be alone.

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Sorry for the super depressing beginning, but I felt it was necessary to give a bit of knowledge as to why Y/N is the way she is in the future.