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no man is truly free from the thoughts inside his head
. . .
[Two years and nine months ago]
Jimin is about to do it.
Holding a tank of fuel on his hand, Jimin walked lazily on the granite floor. His steps barely had a pattern, and his eyes filled with anger. The bruises around his wrist, lips and neck were enough to show that he had endured enough. Every psycho has a story — a truth untold. Who would've known that the sweetest smile on his face hid the mind of a killer?
The loudest silence can be heard when pain is no longer bearable.
Jimin is going to do it.
Spilling the fuel on the kitchen counter, the wooden cabinets, the silk curtains and anything flammable, his jaw locked shut as the hunger for revenge ate his soul up. He was already burning inside. This is the night when a young boy will turn into a man, and from being a man into a criminal. Jimin always had it inside him. His bloodlust was the product of his misery.
Jimin did it.
Oh for the love of God, he finally did it.
Two matches lit before his eyes with the voice inside his head constantly telling him to burn everyone — burn everything to the ground. The bedroom walls that confined his agony were suddenly painted with screams. There seems to be no room for forgiveness.
Chandeliers fell as heat crept along their metal rails. Wood walls rapidly turned into charcoal, while flame dug through human flesh and turned it into a horrifying sight. The dark chamber where Jimin used to spend his nights talking to the dark soul inside him is now hell without demons.
The screeching voice of the man who gave life to him and the man who took it away was music to his ears. Their skins popped like popcorn as they burn while flames consumed their corrupted beings. Their nails forcefully dug through the walls till there is no more strength left in their breaths.
In a matter of minutes, the glorious mansion that once stood out in the middle of an average neighborhood turned into nothing but ash. Jimin fell on his knees as tears started pooling on the edge of his eyes. Tears that were said to be a sign of weakness now symbolizes strength. He stared at the floor, his mouth left agape, arms hanging weakly, eyes are hooded. He clutched his fist as he watched everything that used to be, everything he ever was, crumble around him. Somehow, he felt free of his identity.
Before his frail body completely falls on the ground, a friend caught his arms and helped him stand back up. This familiar man carried him on his back as he made his way out of the house just before a flaming lumber falls above the boy.
Police and firefighters were close to the burning construction, signaled by their wailing. The familiar man had enough time to ask his friend, Jin, to drive Jimin home. As the two flee the scene, Namjoon was asked to raise both his hands beside his head with guns pointed at his back.
Arson — that was the reason he was arrested that day.
— this will be my very last update of this book. i always thought this subplot deserves a chapter. i struggled finding the inspiration to continue writing this page and just tonight, i had it. this book has reached farther than i expected. i am grateful, very much grateful.
