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I didn’t remember my own death. No one remembers their own death. All I had known had been that I had been lying in a hospital bed, Jimin, my brother and parents suddenly gone, instead my uncle who had died two years back in a car accident sat next to me on my bed. "Hey" he had said "it's over. You're dead."
Jimin closed the door of the flat he lived in and kicked off his shoes after shrugging his jacket off. Then he took a moment to just stand there and breathe. It was hard to breathe these days. Especially at night. From the door he could see through the window in the living room and he watched the sun set slowly. Hugging himself he went into the kitchen. He saw his expression in the mirror which hung next to the door. It was a sad expression. It had been a sad expression for a long time.
He barely had been in the kitchen those past months. Only about a dozen times, if he remembered correctly, and every time only very shortly. He again stopped to take it all in and just breathe. It was something he had to concentrate on to do it right. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind, but failing miserably. He opened the refrigerator to realize that it was basically empty. All that was left was a pack of milk, more than a month older than its expiration date, four tomatoes, that probably had been big once but now they were just all wrinkly, two more or less empty sauce bottles and the quarter of a piece of butter. That would make a tasty dinner. Jimin sighed, closed the refrigerator and sank down on the chair next to the table, burying his face in his hands. He could have cried. He even wanted to. But at this point he had cried so many times that it only felt like a distraction and not real sadness anymore. He somehow felt guilty for it. He let his hands sink to the table and he noticed the magazines, letters and notes lying on the table. He had been wrong. It was real sadness. More. It was sorrow, misery, despair. It was pure depression. Jimin didn't feel the tears on his cheeks anymore. They had been constantly present; it almost felt weird when the wetness was missing. A few drops landed on the application for adoption someone had started to fill out then had stopped to leave it waiting to be finished. Well, it would never be finished. They hadn't believed it would stay like this. Jimin had been afraid of it, yes, but he hadn't believed it. And Jungkook... Maybe Jungkook had known it. Maybe Jungkook just wanted Jimin to not lose hope. Well... Now it was lost. Jimin was lost. Jimin was completely lost without Jungkook. More tears. It's not like Jimin never realized that before, even when Jungkook still had been with him. But now, the reality hit Jimin hard. There had always been a plan for the two of them, but never for one of them on their own... After all, marriage was forever. Until death... They couldn't have known it would be so soon...
Jimin looked at his ring. He still wore his ring. Jungkook's ring was on a chain around his neck. He carried their bond on his own, but he carried it. He refused to let it go, to break it.
He sobbed a few times. It was a heartbreaking sobbing, probably. He carefully wrapped his fingers around Jungkook's ring and closed his eyes. He tried to remember him. It's not like it's been ages since he saw him. It's just been ages since he saw him healthy. Or at least what he thought had been healthy. He thought back to how they met.
Jimin's little brother's birthday party: Jihyun had turned sixteen and because he had wanted no parents Jimin had been assigned to watch out so no one would die or burn down the house. Jungkook was only a few weeks younger than Jihyun and he and Jimin soon had been the only sober people left. (Even though Jimin's parents had strictly forbidden alcohol, Jimin wasn't the type of traitor to his brother to tell them about this. It only had come out years later when Jimin and Jungkook had gotten married and they had told the story of how they even met.) They had talked for a long time that night. The whole night basically. At some point, everyone had either left or crashed in some corner of the house, however uncomfortable. But Jimin and Jungkook had sat on the couch for hours and they had talked about everything coming to their mind. From then on Jungkook had come to visit Jihyun more often. But actually it often had ended in Jungkook talking to Jimin. Jihyun had said at some point that Jungkook hadn’t been coming for him but only for his older brother. And it had been kinda true. Jungkook had admitted later, way, way later when they had been in a relationship for years, that he had had a crush on Jimin even way before Jihyun's birthday party but he had never tried to approach him. After all Jimin was two full years older. Being only 15 years old, Jungkook hadn’t known yet that he'd only be alive for the next twelve years and neither had Jimin or anyone else known. Jimin only had started to see Jungkook as someone else than just his little brother's friend when he had finished university. They hadn't seen each other during that time because Jimin had been in Seoul. They had met again when Jihyun had turned 21. It had been a déjà-vu, throwing them back to five years ago when they had met for the first time. Suddenly the age difference of two years hadn’t seemed so big anymore, two weeks later they had went on their first date and after another month they had been an official couple.
There are many different imaginations about death. Some people think that it’s just over. That after, there’s just nothing. Others think that they’ll go to either hell or heaven, the paradise. And again others believe in re-incarnation. Well, if the first thing was true, I wouldn’t be here right now. But the other two are not that wrong.
Jimin looked up and the darkness that covered up the kitchen already made him quickly walk to the nearest switch and turn on the light. His eyes searched for the clock on the wall and when they found it, it told him that more than an hour had passed since he came home. The sun was long gone, hiding beneath the horizon.
Jimin was scared of the night since he had been twelve years old. Usually children are afraid of the dark and grow out of it slowly but for Jimin it had been the other way around. He wasn't necessarily scared of darkness. Just of the night, when it was quiet and there was no indication of him being there. It was a trauma from his childhood.
When he had been twelve years old, in the middle of a quiet night, two guys had broken into their house. No one had been supposed to be home that night, Jihyun had been at a sleepover birthday party and his parents had had to leave spontaneously for an emergency that Jimin's grandmother had had. Jimin had told them that he was old enough to be left alone for a few hours until his parents would be back from his grandmother. It had turned out that he wasn’t Kevin from Home Alone. Two guys had broken in, realizing there had been a child left, one of them had pointed a gun at him, and the other one had started to search the house for anything worth selling. Fortunately neighbors had seen it and they had called the police, who had caught the robbers. And of course Jimin's grandmother hadn’t had an emergency; it had been a fake call to get them away from the house. It had been a traumatizing event. Get threatened by a gun when you are twelve years old, it'll change your perception of being alone during the quiet night in which anything and everything could happen.
When you die, you can’t see alive people anymore. You can’t access the alive world anymore. Your spirit leaves your dead body and enters a dead world. But to make up for it, you can access a new world. Many people call it the Skyline, because it’s a city in the sky. But technically it’s Afterlife.
Jimin took out his phone, turning on some music. Loud enough to be heard from the door to the hallway, but quiet enough to not disturb his neighbors. It had been Jungkook's trick. He always managed to calm Jimin down somehow.
Usually Jimin wouldn't stay alone overnight. The past few weeks, there had always been someone here. But his little brother had a job interview the next day so Jimin told him to rest. Junghyun, Jungkook's older brother, who watched out for Jimin a lot because he had promised it to Jungkook, had to work a night shift. And Taehyung, Jimin's best friend, was currently stuck with his boyfriend in Germany. They had visited Jin's father over there but then their flight back had been cancelled so they'd be here next day noon earliest. Jimin had told every one of them that it didn't matter; someone else surely could come over but... Now he was stuck alone because he didn't want to cause any inconveniences. And he regretted it. The night was going to be a long one.
Carefully Jimin made his way over to the couch and sat down. He turned on the TV but after only two minutes he turned it off again already. He wasn't in the mood. He zoned out, looking out of the window and watching the sky. The stars were barely visible with all the light pollution in the city, but it remembered Jimin of a few years back.
They had been camping. Jungkook had been skeptical, because during the night outside without the safety of locked doors and brick walls? Not a problem for Jungkook, but he worried about Jimin and his trauma from years back a lot. Jimin had been confident. He had been convinced that it would be different, after all no one would try to rob them out on some field while they were camping... Right? Well, Jimin had had a panic attack. He hadn’t been alone, sure, but they had been alone. Alone on a field. If something would happen, no one would be around to see and call help. So Jungkook had had trouble calming Jimin down. Especially because even though Jungkook had been so ready to pack up everything, put Jimin in the car and drive home, Jimin had wanted to pull through it. So Jungkook had thought of something. He had turned on some music on his phone and put his flashlight on the ground so that the light had been visible. "So if anyone should come and think about stealing from us, they'll see the light and hear the music and think we're still awake. And it would be dumb to steal from someone who is awake, so they won't do it."
Jimin had been okay with this arrangement. He had kept his pocket knife near but of course, he hadn’t had to use it. While lying there trying to sleep, Jungkook had started to tell Jimin stories. Stories of how the stars were so beautiful and that he always missed them in the city, even though they were still there. Then he had told Jimin, that the sky was like a neighborhood and the stars watched over Jimin like his neighbors had done back when he had been twelve years old and they had called the police. "There's always someone watching over you." Jungkook had said.
"And what if I'm alone at some point?" Jimin had asked, because the insecurity still lingered. "You won't be. Ever. Because I'm not going to leave you alone." Back then it had been easy to make that promise. Back then, Jungkook hadn't known yet that he was to break it.
You receive a Treasured One. It’s the person who was the most important to you when you were alive. They become the only alive person you can see, so you can watch over them until they die. My Treasured One is Jimin.
Jimin got up from the couch and made sure to leave on the light that would be visible beneath the door from the hallway. He wanted to sleep but he wasn't sure if he could. But he'd try, because he promised Jungkook to eat and sleep properly, even when he would be gone.
Jimin always had tried to be fine, had tried to convince Jungkook not to worry about him. He had pretended, had put up a façade of being okay. Because he had known that it was hard for Jungkook to leave, maybe even harder than it was for Jimin to be left. Jungkook had seen right through it. Of course he had. They had known each other too well. And they had loved each other too much. Still did.
Afterlife is the place you go when you die. From there you can watch over your Treasured One. When your Treasured One dies you bring them to the C.R.D., Center for the Recently Deceased. Then you can go to Beforelife. It’s the paradise, as many would call it, where you wait in between your lives in the alive world.
Many wonder what life is about. Why we live in this circle of Beforelife, Life and Afterlife. No one knows except for Death herself. Life has no meaning unless we give it one.
Jimin went to get undressed and took out a pair of sweatpants and an old shirt to wear for the night. A closer look on the shirt and Jimin realized that it actually was Jungkook's shirt that Jimin stole at some point to turn it into his over-sized sleeping wear. Now he couldn't decide if he wanted to wear it or just hug it to sleep. Eventually he just put the shirt on because he still had Jungkook's pillow to hug. Standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom to brush his teeth, Jimin realized just how old this shirt was. He remembered the time Jungkook had worn it himself. He had worn it the day Jimin had asked Jungkook to marry him. Without standing in front of a mirror, Jimin would have missed the fresh tears. He tried to take a deep breath, but it was a shallow one. Gripping the sink he spat out the toothpaste and quickly went to bed. He didn't want to look at himself anymore. So lonely and pathetic and just... sad... The bed was no solace; it was too big and reminded Jimin of their first night on this bed.
It also had been their first night as a married couple. They had been so... happy, and almost careless. Nothing else had mattered, just the two of them in each other's arms.
Jimin wished himself back to that moment.
Half a year later they had decided to try filling out an application for adoption. It wouldn't be easy as a gay couple, but they really had wanted to do it. It had taken them a while to get familiar with all the formulas, to get more information, to convince people that it didn't matter that they had been gay, to prepare for raising a child. It almost had taken another year for them to be completely sure. And then the diagnosis came: Kidney cancer. At first they had said it could be removed with a surgery. Jimin and Jungkook had decided to pause the adoption process until Jungkook would be safe and healthy. They had had hope. Then they had said it was way too advanced. Metastasis and all, a surgery to remove the tumor was possible but actually too late. It was just a matter of time. They had tried, of course. Whatever it had taken. And Jimin had kept on hoping, kept on praying. Jungkook never had taken his hope but he had known he'd have to go soon. And now he was gone.
I followed Jimin through the apartment. He didn’t look good. I wished I could just hug him, tell him that I was still here, that I loved him. But even though he seemed so close to me, he was so far away. A completely different world. I sat next to him at the kitchen table, stood next to the couch when he sat there, smiled at him wearing my shirt and cried with him when he went to bed. It’s hard to cry when you’re dead, but I couldn’t help it.
Jimin turned around, grabbing Jungkook's pillow and pressing it to his chest when he sobbed. He wanted him back. He wanted his Jungkookie back next to him, hugging him, comforting him. Loving him. Being with him. But he wasn't to come back...
The quiet banging pulled Jimin out of his desperation. It was back. It had been there for nights. Something above him, banging every other hour. It sounded like they were banging with a wooden stick or something against the wall. An elderly woman lived above him, it was the highest apartment, but she said that for a while every night someone was playing rock music above her and she wanted them to keep it down so she was banging on the ceiling.
They had talked about it when she had brought him self-made cake, cookies and lemonade. She had liked Jungkook a lot, they had been weirdly close. Because his grandparents were in Busan, far away, he always had said she was like a grandma next door. She had always talked about a time when she wouldn't be there anymore, what Jungkook should and shouldn't do. Now he was gone and she was still there.
She had said she'd change places immediately.
I knew how afraid he was of the silent night. And I needed to do something to make him feel safe. Usually it’s not possible to interact with alive people, unless they are very afraid or near death and you have to protect them. So every night I stood on the roof and played the songs we used to listen to at night. Some of my favorite rock songs. Most of the time Jimin wouldn’t be able to hear it, but when he’d be really scared he’d hear me and maybe it would comfort him just a little bit.
The banging now stopped for a while and as always Jimin listened if he could hear anything. But there was nothing, only the faint music he had left on in the living room. The banging continued. Jimin sometimes was a bit worried about her; maybe she should go to a senior home. There were a lot of moments when she seemed to be a bit confused.
When they had talked about the noises in the night, Jimin had said he never heard anything. She had said, maybe it was because she'd soon be dead. "Oh my dear", she had exclaimed then. "Heaven is a big band now."
In moments like this Jimin wondered if it was true. And he wondered if maybe there really was something going on, on the roof. The banging stopped again and, maybe it was imagination, maybe it was wishful thinking, but it really sounded like there was something. Something quiet, something you usually wouldn't hear but... something.
Jimin got up, carefully, and he suddenly realized how calm he was. He wasn't usually like this. Usually he'd have a full blown panic attack as soon as he’d realize that he was alone. But weirdly, he didn't feel alone. He felt... comforted, somehow. By the quiet, quiet something he could hear. Like a beat of some drums. He took his phone off the charger and his keys; then he slowly sneaked out into the hallway. Closing the door behind him, he went up the stairs. One pair of it and he was on the highest story, again hearing the banging from inside the flat. Then he heard it more clearly. There was an e-guitar and faint... Singing... It was a rock song. And it felt so familiar. It reminded him of Jungkook and his favorite songs...
Jimin took the last pair of stairs and faced the door that would lead him to the roof. Scared but also not really he put his hand on the handle. He didn't feel like there would be something dangerous on the other side. He didn't feel alone. He felt strong. He felt as if Jungkook was secretly there and had his hand out on Jimin's. He pushed the door open and saw... nothing. An empty roof. The music was gone. He turned around, confused, looking down the staircase. What was going on? Was he going crazy too? Was he dreaming? He didn't know... And he didn't really care. He looked up to the sky. To his neighborhood. It comforted him. At least a little bit. Though he couldn't see the stars, they were still there. And for a moment it felt as if Jungkook was just the same. He couldn't see him, but he was still there.
Jimin went forward to the railing and looked down on the city that Jungkook resented so much. He took a deep breath of air. He closed his eyes and he felt the wind in his face, he felt like falling.
And then there was the music again, as if the band started again with a next song after their short break. It started simple. A drum beat and simple pulling of guitar strings. And a voice. And Jimin's blood froze.
A song, so familiar because he had listened to it a million times when Jungkook had turned up the volume of his music. A voice, so familiar because he had listened to it every night when Jungkook had sung him to sleep.
When he came out on the roof I didn’t know how to react. I hadn’t expected it, so I abruptly stopped playing. I watched him walk to the edge, I felt the need to pull him back from the railing, I felt the shock when I was too slow. I felt the relief when he hit the ground and still stood in front of me. I started to play again, to see if he’d notice me.
He turned around slowly. There, in the middle of the roof, suddenly was a set of drums being played, a keyboard stood there, keys being pressed. There was an e-guitar and an e-base, strings being pulled. And then, in the middle of the four instruments... There was the singer.
Jungkook's voice kept on ringing in Jimin's head, because the woman from the apartment above Jimin had been right. Heaven was a band and Jimin's dead husband was its singer.
He didn’t remember his own death. No one remembers their death.