Deviation Records | BTS Fanfiction

4 | A Death Story

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"Stories are versions of lives, they never end. But the writer just stops writing them down."

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Yoonbi

"So you knew who I am and everything all along!" I block my ears as SoMin shrieks.

"That was so loud, SoMin." I complain. Funny, a ghost is hurting my eardrums.

"Answer me, Yoonbi!"

"Yeah, okay! Yes!" I shout back. Upon the realization that my parents might think I'm shouting alone in my room, I pursed my lips, "but I was just experimenting it, I didn't mean to invade your privacy, I swear." I speak lightly.

"Humph!" Is all what she gives me.

"Just listen okay! I can't really use it on anyone, my parents say it's immoral. But I only used it on a few people on the street and at school just because I was so intrigued and curious!"

She doesn't reply and crosses her arms with her head tilt away from me.

"Come on! I stopped since I used it on my math teacher and discovered that he hooked up with my physics teacher; ugh it was a disgusting scene-"

"You can see pictures? Scenes!" She turns to me so suddenly.

"Yeah, till now I was only able to have access to the basic information and recent memories of any person I choose to-"

"Shut up! Are you bragging! Does that mean you saw my family? Then how come you didn't know where was I for the past year?" She investigates.

"I told you, I can't reach any memories older than two months. And even when I first met you, other than an introduction about you, all I saw was you parents and a really few things concerning your older brother. I wonder why is that." I mumble.

She massages her temples with her thumb and forefinger, "I can't believe this." She whispers.

"Why isn't your memory rich with brother-sister moments?" I ask, leaning closer to her side.

"I'm not talking to you, devious psychic!"

"Come on!" I nag.

"Uh-uh."

"SoMin," I warn, "I'm going to surf your memory again."

"Huh, try to." I do as she says and stare at her. My eyes narrow a bit and I'm almost in.

"What are you doing! Stop!" She shouts, running to the other side of the room, I laugh at her mortified reaction.

"Tell me." I demand.

"Okay! Okay!" She surrenders and I punch the air in victory.

"Go on now, I won't use my powers on you. Promise." I say patting the spot that she previously occupied on my bed.

She stomps back to me and sits, "he's busy, and on that day I died he had something to do with his friends."

"It's not like he's always busy, and I'm talking about the two months you were a ghost at." I interject.

"I got sick of it, I got sick of seeing him cry over me. Blame himself, believe that it's his fault I was killed that day."

My heart tightens and my beats come out stronger as I imagine that cute guy crying and going through all this.