Chapter Text
I often wondered what life after death felt like.
The small, aesthetic library on the more secluded side of town was our favourite place to go. Well, mine more like, but he accompanied me nonetheless because that was just the person that he was.
It used to baffle me how a boy who preferred art to books would willingly sit with me for hours on end every Saturday, bored out of his mind yet not saying a single thing about it, patiently waiting for me who was immersed in a book, to announce it was time to go. Enduring all of this simply because I enjoyed it.
That was Kim Taehyung for you. The selfless, kindest soul I had ever come across in all of my years.
Taehyung was the kind to not swat a fly or step on an ant. He was the kind who breathed poetry and had rare flowers entangled in his bones. He was my brother. My little brother who I'd vowed to protect yet failed disgracefully.
I remember the day I first opened my eyes after the incident. I couldn't do much other than call for Taehyung. Hdrivin was the first I uttered, over and over. Kim Taehyung. Where's Kim Taehyung.
They tried to calm me down. Ha. As if you can calm the heart of a man who's family was at risk. Somehow, I'd known, I think but I refused to accept it. In the doctors eyes. The way he looked down at me. I'd already known the one I called for probably would never come.
For the next couple of days, I was only allowed to see my other friends, my other family. Min Yoongi, Jung Hoseok, Park Jimin, Jeon Jungkook and my very own boyfriend, Kim Seokjin. They were my everything, and they knew it but the ever filling void of emptiness Taehyung left could not be rivalled by the love and affection we showed each other to dilute his absence and they knew that, also. We all knew it.
Taehyung was buried on a Saturday.
I don't know who'd chosen the date, since we were all just mindless zombies walking around in the days leading to his funeral so it must've have been a subconscious choice but as I checked the calendar that morning, I felt something drop deep inside of my stomach.
We should have been at the library with his eyes browsing the books he wasn't interested in from his position rooted beside me, knowing I was so protective of him, I did not want him out of my line of sight, ever. We should have been together. But not like this.
Not like him being lowered in a closed casket a couple feet into the muddy earth and me staring at the static coloured sky, allowing the tears to stream down my face in a torrent but not letting a single sound leave my mouth. Taehyung had always said I was a silent crier and he had to continuously look at my face to see if it was contorted to know if I was crying.
I couldn't protect him. Those were the words that kept running through my mind. I couldn't protect him, I didn't mean to kill him. I'm sorry.
I somehow knew the guilt would nestle itself comfortably on my shoulders because after all, I was the designated driver and he was my little brother I was supposed to protect. I couldn't really remember much of the accident. Just headlights, loud crash, broken windshield, lots of glass and lots of blood. The memories came in bits and pieces. But it hardly mattered anyway. Taehyung was dead, I was the driver not anyone else. I should have been more careful.
It should've been me being lowered into the earth, not my innocent, kindhearted baby brother.
They tried to tell me it wasn't my fault but I always snapped. Of course it was. Who else could be blamed? The day of the funeral, when we went back home, just the six of us, Seokjin continuously checked on every one of us to make sure we wouldn't do something we'd all regret.
I hated it. I hated it because I could see the pain in his eyes while he tried to heal ours. I wanted him to leave us all to our own devices and work on himself because he was hurt, too. We all were. But he wouldn't listen. That was just Seokjin. He was amazing and selfless to the point where it was toxic to him self. This continued for the two days following after that and on the evening of the second day, I had already had it up to my neck with the babying.
I left the house for some fresh air, bumping into people constantly because my head was in the clouds, though they didn't seem to mind. I think they saw the sadness in my eyes and decided to leave me be. I mindlessly trudged, foot after foot, to wherever my legs took me.
I ended up outside the library which was hardly any surprise.
It was winter, though I could barely feel it. I forgot to bring a coat. I only wore a T-shirt and jeans. If Taehyung were here, he would've scolded me for it. Taehyung. It was a little weird, sad, hard — a mixture of a lot of emotions, referring to him in past tense but that was just how it would be.
Kim Taehyung. Was.
I made my way over to my usual table at the back. No one ever used it except for me and Taehyung so I really hadn't expected anyone there. I was pleasantly (?) surprised though because sitting on the chair was the one person I'd never expected to be there.
I had never seen a ghost before in my life but as they say, there is a first time for everything.
For a few seconds, I questioned my eyesight and my mind, actually. I wondered if I'd gone mad with grief that I'd conjured the perfect image of my younger brother, sitting at our usual spot, eyes nestled in a book. I blinked dumbly a couple of times, only then realising that my mouth had fallen open.
Kim Taehyung sat, read and cried. He had tears streaming down his face and I desperately wanted to console him. Was I dreaming. Was he a ghost. Did he even die? I wanted to pinch my self and wake up and see the face of my little brother, void of tears, staring down at me with his usual, adorable 'boxy' smile as we'd dubbed it.
I reached out to him cautiously but before I could touch him, someone bumped into me with enough force to send me flying to the ground and they didn't even look sorry. I didn't have the time to be angry as I picked my self up, preparing to walk over to my brother and clear everything up.
But he was gone.
Kim Taehyung was no longer in his chair. I blinked again, with wide eyes. Staring at the empty space he'd previously occupied. Maybe I hadgone mad with grief. I barked out bitter laughter. He wasn't even there in the first place, I'd simply thought him up. I ran a finger through my hair and hastily exited the library, feeling choked up and weak.
I couldn't tell the guys. They would think I was crazy and unreliable. It was just going to be a secret between me and my subconscious.
I sighed and began the walk home.
And even as I caught a whiff of that familiar perfume he always wore, I simply buried it in the back of my head. I was going crazy.
Taehyung is not here. He's dead. Dead. Dead.
Maybe if I said it enough times, I'd start to believe it.