Butterfly

13 - Patient #160905 [BEFORE]

"I wanted to tell her that I was getting better, because that was supposed to be the narrative of illness: It was a hurdle you jumped over, or a battle you won. Illness is a story told in the past tense." - John Green

Park Jimin awoke to the sounds of birds singing and the morning sun shining on both him and the bed that didn't belong to him, inside a house he didn't know.

Shit, he cursed silently. When he moved under the bedsheets, he felt them running over his bare skin.

God damn you, Jimin, a voice said, furious at himself. The thought was soon followed by a different voice: you need to get out of here now. What are you even still doing there, you complete idiot?! He pushed himself off the mattress and shivered as the cold air of the room hit his skin. Get out of here, get out of here.

He froze when he heard the distinct sound of a girl's breath on the bed next to him. Shit, shit, shit...

"Are you leaving?" a stranger's voice asked.

If Jimin had been braver, he would have turned to look at her. Face what he had done. But he wasn't braver. He didn't want to think about what he'd done. He didn't know why he kept doing it. So instead, he nodded, got out of the bed, pulled the clothes he recognized as his own from the floor, and ran out of the room.

He pulled his clothes on as he found a door, then was blinded by the early morning light in the daytime. The memories of the night before came back to him - he'd been feeling amazing. Like the world was his for the taking. Which had been a welcome feeling, seeing as for nearly a week beforehand, it had taken nearly all of his energy just to get out of bed for work. He'd slogged through work like a zombie, gone home, and returned to the safety of his bed. To feel great had been amazing. And then he'd gone and only done stupid things. He'd dressed up in ridiculous clothes, went to a club, wasted so, so much money buying himself and complete strangers alcohol, and then hooked up with someone.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

He always did stuff like that when he felt good. Why, why, why?

Jimin looked at the subdivision he was in and sighed in relief. He'd gotten lucky this time. He'd woken up in a rather nice area, and even more lucky, one he recognized. Too many times he'd woken up and found himself in places that he should never be anywhere near.

Now, how to get home. He knew how to get home, right?

Right. Maybe, if his luck kept, his sister and best friend/roommate would not be awake yet and no one would know what had happened.

Yeah, right. Jimin's luck ran out. He was approaching the end of the street, and the yelling in his head took over.

Why do I keep doing that?

I'm such an idiot.

This is why your parents don't want to talk to you.

But they said it was because they wanted us to get accustomed to living out of the house.

And you believed them, stupid boy? You're so gullible, I can't believe you even really think Eunsoo and Areum really enjoy being around you. They just feel bad for you.

Jimin's heart thudded rapidly in his chest at the thought of his two best friends not actually caring about him. It hurt as much as the thought that his parents didn't really want to talk to him. Before he knew it, a loud sob tore through his throat, and tears flooded into his eyes, making him unable to see. He sat down on the sidewalk and buried his face in his hands, loud cries breaking through. His thoughts were swirling through his head like a hurricane.