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Sometimes Han Jisung loved life. Most of the time though, he fucking hated it.
There's really no point to it and just he couldn't be bothered.
What was the point of hanging around when he'd never be anything, he'd never make any kind of impact.
At the end of the day all human life is meaningless and him leaving would have no impact on anyone long term.
But honestly? Fuck them, he wasn't doing this for them, he was doing it for him because he didn't want to stay around any longer.
He couldn't fucking sleep.
He had repressed his emotions for so many years now that when he felt like shit he had no way of expressing it. Rather he caved in in himself becoming an empty shell.
He wasn't doing it on purpose or anything, in some kind of attempt to make people feel sorry for him, nah.
He was just so fucking tired. Tired of emotions. Tired of thinking, feeling, existing.
He barely spoke at school anymore, not that anyone noticed.
His eyes were hollow and empty, a smile never quite reaching them.
It had all started when he had developed body image issues. Too fat, too skinny he was never ok.
He wasn't attractive enough and so he made himself better.
He could fix himself right? It would work, he could do it.
All he needed to do was lose a bit of weight and he'd be so much better.
So he did the logical thing and just stopped eating whenever he could. It wasn't even hard.
All he did was to only eat when other people were watching.
For four years this went on. Breakfast was a thing of the past.
No breakfast, snacks for lunch, a small snack after school if he didn't hate himself too much that week and then a meal for tea with his parents.
The funniest thing is that nobody ever even noticed.
He got compliments, "wow you're so skinny" "you have the best proportions out of all of us" he wasn't going to lie he was skinny. His ribs were showing and he could probably get an anatomy degree because he sure knew the shape of all his bones.
Somewhere around the second year of his troubles he stopped going to his baseball club meetings. The muscles made his legs look fat. It made sense, stop exercising and you'll stop looking fat. It worked.
His mental health was shit but it was too late to do anything by the time he noticed. Now he was too far gone for any kind of help.
Two years ago, the fourth year, his final year of school, he almost killed himself, he didn't but he thought about it a lot, a lot a lot.
He wasn't stressed for exams. Nah he'd pass them he'd always been smart. Not that he could even bring himself to care anymore anyways. He was a piece of shit that would never amount to anything in life anyways.
Anyways in that year he made a friend. This friend was really not mentally well, at all.
Jisung must've been lying about how bad he was. After all at that point he hadn't really tried to hurt himself of kill himself yet like his friend had so really his mental health must've been pretty much perfect.
Yes, shut up starving himself doesn't count as self harm. Or at least at that point he didn't realise it did.
He was skinny now but it wasn't enough. His personality was shit. Nobody stayed his friend for longer than a few months though so it's not like anyone would miss him when he left.
Yes when not if, because he had fully accepted that he'd die at this point. Honestly he was a little surprised when he made it to his 16th birthday. He didn't celebrate that birthday with anyone. He hadn't had a birthday party in years so it made no difference anyways.
Anyways this friend of his, he had to prove himself to him. Jisung had to show him that he wasn't faking it for attention, he had to.
So he did, he cut himself, he starved himself more, he was dying but he didn't care.
He told said friend that he'd cut himself. Ignored his cries to stop ignored it and did the opposite. In a few months his left arm was scattered with scars of various sizes.
The first was about 4cm across. Just a simple straight line across the back of his arm. He got it from PE, that's what he told his parents.
The next was smaller only 2cm higher up his arm just enough to draw a little blood. That's as far as he ever went before he knew it'd be obvious. Just enough to draw blood.
This went on for months cutting every time he wanted to do more.
Soon he decided to try and cut to the bone. Why? Why not? It would be cool to see a real bone. And it's not like he could feel anything anymore anyways.
He tried, he really did, you can't say he didn't try that's for sure but after half an hour of dragging the scissors across his wrist bones he still couldn't see any bone but the wound was opening. And he couldn't go any deeper, he'd be too obvious.
There was no exuse for this one, his classmate noticed. He didn't care.
He'd made it this far and he was happy with that. After months of dragging his ordeal on he just decided to plan it out.
It was strangely freeing he knew how he'd want to do it.
You see Han Jisung is a fucking coward. He knew he'd try to back out but he don't want to.
So he made a list - when he killed himself he would, 1) not let himself go back on himself. 2) not let anyone he knew find his body, he might be been a piece of shit but he wasn't going to hurt his family like that. 3) whoever was to find him couldn't be a child either. That one would be easy enough. 4) he couldn't have someone else believing they'd killed him, so that ruled out jumping in front of a car.
Anyways he had it planned. He'd researched. 7m high to seriously injure, 12m to kill. 12m, 4 floors. Wouldn't be too hard.
He would go to the town centre and find a roof or window and jump. It wasn't hard. He'd succeed and move on. Everyone else would move on and he wouldn't have to drag out his existence for any longer.
He'd left notes of course. He written them months before occasionally editing them when he felt like he was mentally stable enough to do to. There was no way he'd be able to think clearly on the night he'd die.
Cut to one year ago when he finally felt as though he was getting better. He'd moved away from the friend. He was kind of happy for once.
The thought of death didn't cross his mind for ages and he was kind of not hating life. He wasn't liking it by any stretch but he could manage.
His eyes were still empty, his smile rare and his contact list empty.
But he was alive so yet again he was surprising himself.
Cut to now. He'd been happy, genuinely happy. He'd thought that maybe times were changing that he'd gotten over it and that he'd be okay for once but no such luck. After all good things only last so long.
He might not make it past the next few months but he could hope at least. He had to believe in himself. After all he hadn't had enough time to distance himself from everyone he knew yet and while he was a bag of trash, he wasn't going to hurt people unnecessarily.
He stretched his arms and sat up, legs dangling over the side of his bed. Felix wasn't back yet. He had probably about an hour until he was back from his evening lecture.
Honestly Jisung just wanted to use one of their kitchen knives and slit his wrists in the most basic depressed bitch kind of way but he didn't. He couldn't do that to Felix. His only close friend and the purest boy in the world Felix.
But as he said he had an hour, so he wrote a note.
Hey Felix :)
I hope you see this because like, I'm really fucking tired. Im so sorry, I do love you I promise but I just can't do this anymore. Sorry for leaving you to deal with me, and this.
Please move on, don't stay in the apartment either, you should move in with Changbin he's great. I don't want you being sad over me okay? Just be sad for a day or two if you must, then move on. Feel free to forget me if you want to I wouldn't blame you
I love you and I'll miss you
Goodbye,
Sungie :)
It was short, it was simple, it was a shit note on the back of some worksheet he was meant to complete for class. He left it on Felix's bed.
What did he even need for this??
He pulled a pair of trainers on. Grabbed a torch. Opened the door and took a last look around before leaving. His wallet and phone lay untouched on his bedside table. He didn't need them where he was going anyways.
"Goodbye" if his voice wobbled he wouldn't admit it.
He knew the way well enough, his eyes fluttering shut as he learnt over the edge enjoying the breeze in his hair the cold caressing his face and then seeping into his bones.
He'd do it for real this time.
One foot then the other…
It wasn't even hard. All he did was climb up there and the wind pretty much did the rest for him. He was probably gone before he even hit the ground. He heard a scream, but it was distant, so distant.
He didn't register it and he was glad. He'd succeeded for once in life. He wouldn't be able to succeed again and that was the best feeling. His face was wet. His blood. Good. It must be soaking the pavement, yet another problem he'd caused for someone else to deal with. "His bloody life, in my bloody hands" or whatever that one poem he had to learn for English had said.
He was lying there, in a pool of his own blood, still cold but it didn't matter anymore, he was happy.
"No No No! Fucking hell Sungie what have you done? No omg! FUCKING HELL CHANGBIN PICK UP I NEED YOU!!"
"hey wha-"
"Is sung with you?"
"No why-"
"Omg no no sung no-" a sob ripped through his body changbins worried voice fading to a low buzz as the phone dropped from his grip and he fell to the floor beside it.
"FELIX!! CMON FELIX ANSWER ME"
silence…
Not even 15 minutes later changbin was at the youngers door surprising as he was definitely at least a 30 minute walk away. They never quite figured out how he did that. The door was already open so once he arrived it wasn't long before he found Felix sobbing quietly on the floor beside his bed.
"Lix baby you gotta tell me what's wrong"
"Sung" he managed to choke out.
"Ok baby what about Jisung, has he done something stupid again?? Wait did he hurt you? I swear I'll kill him tha-"
He was cut off by a low chuckle from the clearly distraught boy on the floor beside him.
"Too late"
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"IT'S TOO FUCKING LATE CHANGBIN you can't kill him anymore, he's done it himself" the last part barely above a whisper but he got the point across anyways as he broke down into changbins arms further.
"Wh- what"
"He's fucking dead binnie, he's gone"
"How do you know? He was fine earlier"
"Clearly not. Here"
A worksheet for some class was showved into changbins face who simply looked at it in confusion.
"Lix what? This isn't funny"
"What? Turn it over"
He did, he read the note, soon both of them were crying, their sons echoing through the empty apartment.
"Wait a minute Lix, he might be okay he can't have left too long ago let's see if we can find him yeah?"
"Changbin I don't know if I can…"
"Please Lix we need to at least try"
"...okay for sung"
"For sung."
And if the boys never found their friend, if they cried for months after, if the funeral was beautiful to reflect the boy they'd all lost, if the church was full, if the tears outweighed the rain, if Felix really did end up moving in with Changbin afterwards, or if Felix was never quite the same, never quite as happy. Jisung would never know.
Because Jisung had left.
He wasn't going to come back.
He was gone.
His smile immortalised only in photos.
His voice on demo tracks he'd never had the energy to properly produce.
His personality saved only in the memories of those closest to him.
His precious soul now watching over his loved ones. He wasn't hurting now. He was at peace he was happy, he could sleep now. No more pain…
Goodbye Sungie. We love you and we'll always miss you. :)