fake | jihope ✓

❌ 10 ❌

tw// self harm, pretty graphic.

january 6th

justjimin:
"hoseok"

"where are you"

hobihoseok:
"hey Jimin! sorry I wasn't in the chat last night, I was sleeping. :)))"

justjimin:
"thank god you're okay"
message not sent

"I was so worried"
message not sent

"don't do that to me"
message not sent

"okay"

hobihoseok:
"I have to get ready for work now. I'll ttyl! ☆☆"

justjimin:
"bye"

"hobihoseok" has left the chat

-

Hoseok's whole body is shaking. His hands have been trembling since he woke up in a puddle of his own blood, and the pain he's in cannot be compared to any pain he has ever felt before.

He wants so badly to call somebody for help, but he can't. He won't let himself be weak like that.

But he can't even stand from the bathroom floor on his own. His arms are in too much pain. It feels as if they've been lit on fire, and said fire is eating away at his skin.

Silent tears slip down Hoseok's cheeks, and his chest heaves with a sob caught in his throat.

"Y-you're p-pathetic..." His weak voice hiccups. "You ca-an't even tell h-him the trut-th..."

"You deserve all the pain in this world, Hoseok. Those cuts aren't enough. You should bleed more for being such a pathetic weakling." He scolds himself, but he doesn't feel as if it's him talking.

The blade he used last night is still on the floor, so he picks it up with shaking hands.

Pressing it to the skin of his right forearm, closes his eyes and
d
r
a
g
s
the blade all the way through.

Five, ten, fifteen minutes pass and he finally hears the sirens that he must have called.

The world is fading in and out as people in weird clothes break through the bathroom door and carry him away.

The last thing he sees is his phone, bursting with new messages. Before the world slips away entirely, he grabs the device and shoves it in his pocket.