death's wish | park jisung √

00100000

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"Sung, we'll miss you! Always come back for kimchi!" The ladies old and worn out voice called over the boy who was heaving his luggage up a light of stairs. Jisung nodded back at the elderly politely, knowing a part of him will miss their cheerful smile and their willing to leave with only a couple years left of their timeline

He'll miss the kimchi that was soaked every morning to be brought to the table, and the plates and plates of food delivered to their excuse of a table despite having little resources, and of course the livelihood of it all.

He'll miss it

Bidding one final goodbyes to the elderly that had taken him so kindly under their wing. He used the wages he had made yesterday to pay off his taxi fees as they drove on a road that was bare of stabilisation. The radio was blaring obnoxiously and there never spiked a conversation.

The goodbye was also silent when Jisung took his luggage off the arrive at the building. It wasn't a mansion, nor was it just a casual big house. It was a castle, one with vines that stuck to the side and painted with nothing but the colour of night. It didn't seem liveable, but something about how the roof of the building shot right through the middle of me as if to say it was an eclipse, seemed to lure him in.

His feet took him to the front gate, the howling of wolves and ruffles of eagles distant to his ears. There were no doorbells, so he knocked. Though, his knuckle didn't even need to hit the gate for it to creek open with a deafening screech.

His untarnished eyes seemed to draw a conclusion on this haunted place, but even so, Jisung felt as if it was comforting. He took a while just examining the building, before taking a glance at me.

He hadn't looked at me the way he was looking at me for a long time. Perhaps it was my lone silver paint that dashed across his necklace, a single bullet strung along the chains. It has its own meaning to why he wore a bullet around his neck, just as everything has its reason for existing

The big doors opened, but the servants did not bustle out, instead a girl, hair to her waist and eyes forever a blank black. Jisung recognised her, oddly. He had only seen her once, and it was the once she had stabbed him in the arm.

"Welcome" Her translucent dress with black roses diapering across it was trailing behind her, overlaying the similarly black dress underneath. She had her arms folded, and eyebrow cocked in upmost amusement.

Jisung took a step forward, to have a palm be pressed against his chest. The unknowing boy he is, he stumbled back, almost dropping the suitcase. With one hand on his chest, the other in the air, two clicks of her fingers insinuated the rush of servants, taking Jisung's baggage away from its owner

"My bag-"

"We meet again, Jisung" She dropped her hand, trailing her eyes up from his chest right into his eyes. He didn't say a word, astounded at the behaviour of the same aged woman in front of him. They were both young, yet acted in two different worlds

The winds blew as the two stood looking each other, figuring out what lay behind the glass of their eyes. I noticed that they seemed to be standing in complete darkness, so I helped them out a bit, and attempted to raise my candle towards them

Instead, the ashes fell, and watered them with a pool of only darkness. I was getting pushed to the back by the clouds. I was stronger than them, but they out weighed me by numbers.