Wings | BTS

AWAKE

edited

awake (verb): stop sleeping, wake from sleep; gain consciousness

seokjin could only hope that everything had been a dream that he would wake up from - but it was only wishful thinking. it was real, too real, and seokjin didn't want to have to deal with something so harsh as the truth.

he would soon follow his friends to the paradise he dreamed of, where all of them could simply be together. he had planned this day from the day jungkook had left, believe it or not. he realized he soon would be the last one left standing, left to fend for himself.

he had the small knife he'd bought that day, waiting in the back of his sock draw to be used on skin. the only thing left to do was pray for them.

seokjin had gone to visit their graves. they were buried in a small cemetery at the top of a hill where they often liked to go for picnics and the lot. he pulled out his pink polaroid, the one he always used for pictures. he set a timer and placed the camera down, getting into the frame right before the shutter clicked down.

the picture seemed oddly empty, as though it was waiting for something to fill it up and take care of the lonely seokjin standing in the center. it was ghostly and eerie that it was so empty, compared to the others that he had taken.

this would be his last picture, so he stored it safely in his pocket and began to pack up his stuff, deciding on riding the bus back home.

he pinned the photo up on the wall, next to the others that he had all hung up. they created a collage of everything they had done in their lives, showing every detail of their lives that they rarely shared.

seokjin smiled fondly at the wall and went to his dresser. he rummaged through the socks, choosing to simply toss them out when they became too annoying.

the knife was at the very back, somewhere where seokjin knew people would not have looked for something like a knife. he found it with ease, still laying where he had left it, tucked between his red and black socks.

seokjin flicked the blade out and slid the knife across his wrist, once, twice, six times for the death of the others, and one final one for good measure. he carefully cleaned off the knife with a sock, not caring that it would get dirty.

seokjin went about his normal day, making food he knew he would probably not eat. he began to feel dizzy pretty soon, the blood loss getting to his head. he hit the ground with a thud. his eyes found the bright ceiling light and he winced at the harshness.

"goodbye."

and he closed his eyes.

i'll forgive you.