I Told You, I'm A Monster

Chapter Twenty-Three

*******PLEASE READ!!!! HEAVY TRIGGER WARNINGS. Mentions of inner voices torturing their host. Brief depiction of suicide. Depictions of violence. READERS PLEASE USE DISCRETION.*******

Sixteen days. It's been sixteen days since Jimin was hauled away to prison. He had long since given up on trying to escape or weasel his way out of his thirty-year prison sentence.

Of course he had tried everything he could think of. Looking for plausible digging materials, offered the guards blowjobs and more, played the “I-wasn't-in-my-right-mind” card, even tried acting sick to go to the infirmary, and everything in between. But nothing had worked. The guards only sneered at him, and some beat him horribly for telling such blatant lies, because they could see right through him. Some guards chose to abuse him in other ways.

Besides that, even if he wanted to escape anymore, the voices in his head were increasing in volume, intensity, and realness with each hour that passed until Jimin felt like he was going absolutely mad. He found it impossible to think straight. He hadn't slept a wink in the better part of those sixteen days. The voices simply would not stop torturing him.

On the sixteenth day of his sentence, Jimin is pacing back and forth in his cell. To anyone passing by, it looks like he's muttering to himself. But the reality is he's having a full-out conversation with the voices in his head.

Jimin murmurs “What have I done? Why did I do it? Why did I kill him?” Like a chant, over and over.

“You killed Jungkook because you're mean, and you did it in a mean way. Who could ever forgive you for that?”

“No one. No one can forgive me. I can't forgive myself.”

“Exactly. So how can you expect anyone else to forgive you?”

Another voice chimes in.

“Jiminie how could you do something like that? To someone who loved you more than anything?”

Still another voice speaks up.

“What are you talking about? No one loves him. No one has ever truly loved him. Isn't that right, Jimin? You've always been too fucked up for anyone to love you.”

“Th-that's not true! Jungkook loved me! Jungkookie loved me so much and he told me all the time!”

The first and most menacing voice speaks softly. “Jimin, how could he love you? You don't deserve love. You don't deserve to be happy either. You killed your own parents and Jungkook. How could you expect anyone to love you or think highly of you after doing such things? It's useless, just like you.”

The two other voices chime in with a simultaneous “He's right, Jimin. You don't deserve love.”

With tear-filled eyes, Jimin sinks to the ground and covers his ears, screaming to try to block the voices out, but it's like a relentless, brutal cycle of the three voices screaming in his head. When he's screamed himself hoarse, the voices finally stop, and Jimin has a moment of clarity. He eyes the sheets on his bed and the sturdy pipe running along the ceiling of his room.

He knows what he has to do.

It's the middle of the night, so he quietly rips his sheets into strips, careful not to make any mistakes or any noise. He ties the strips together in tight, sturdy knots, only stopping when he doesn't have any sheets left. With shaky hands and tears streaming down his face, he ties one end to the pipe, giving a few tugs to make sure it'll hold, and he ties the other end into a loop big enough to fit around his neck. He steps up onto the chair in his cell and puts the loop around his neck, and only then does he hesitate.