Work Text:
Jisung sat down at his desk, his fucked up monitor whirring to life. He grumbled to himself as it heated up and he just sat there.
His mind was blank other than the thoughts that sat in the back of his mind constantly, all of them either self deprecating or suicidal.
The pc light flickered on and Jisung logged onto his favourite game. He wiped his eyes, cursing under his breath as he messes up his under eye eye-shadow.
Game Chat:
Jisung: hey Minho, u up?
Can’t sleep, might relapse
then go get high on my roof
Minho: yes bitch, I’m fucking up.
Jisung: who’s up? BAHAHAHA
Minho: you aren’t funny
At least you’re somewhat interesting
Jisung: jokes aside bro
idk if I can keep going
He didn’t wait for the other boy’s response to get up from his seat at his desk, the old, ripped leather of the gaming chair scrunching under his bony hands and thighs.
Jisung could feel the urge bubbling up inside of him, he knew he didn’t have to much longer left before he would need to relapse. He knew tonight was his last. It was a quite spontaneous decision but he was satisfied with it. He didn’t need to live past 14, who does?
The boy pushed his dresser away from his window, using his entire skinny frame to push it, it was 2 AM and he didn’t care if he woke people up. Jisung raised his blinds and opened his window. He could hear the noises of the city, he hardly knew what was real that he was listening to and what else was a hallucination, he didn’t care though.
The 14 year old grabbed a chunk of his hair, the urge to cut himself intensifying. He pulled his hair, a big chunk coming out in his bony hands.
“FUCK THIS” Jisung screamed. He knew his parents heard, they probably didn’t care after all
“Nobody cares until you’re rich, famous, or dead”
The boy had no idea who said that and when. But he wrote it on a piece of paper, quitely he taped it to the door of his room, the word dead circled in a thick red marker he had found on the floor among tons of dirt and garbage.
He saw the old pc light up in the corner, probably another desperate message from Minho, a plea to keep him alive. Jisung had decided not to care, it was difficult, but so is killing yourself and he had his mind set on that one well enough.
Jisung opened his nightstand drawer, moving the box of tissues that hid his blades aside. He grabbed his last new one, the others had been dulled by his skin and veins.
He sat on his bed, thinking of his short life. He tried but quickly remembered why he hardly thought about his past, or his future.
Jisung pulled up his sweatshirt sleeve, slicing the blade into his wrists, it was enough to make him dizzy already. He went deep. Deep enough he knew that if the pills he was about to down didn’t take him, the blood loss surely would.
Line after line, he grabbed a tissue to wipe the pooling blood off of his arms, accidentally spreading it up and down his forearms, smearing onto his gray hoodie. Well his pinkish-brown sleeved hoodie now.
Jisungs mind swam and he felt the life draining from him like water through a strainer. He was just a grain of rice being washed in a basin. He was temporary, he knew it, he had for a long time.
The amass amount of blood spilling from his cuts dropped down his arms onto his bedsheets.
The boy grabbed his pill bottle, putting 5 in his mouth and grabbing a random fast food cup from his floor to swallow the pills.
100 milligrams of amphetamine hit him, or was it the loss of blood, he had no idea and frankly couldn’t care. Jisung let out a feeble whine, he was in pain but couldn’t scream. He felt the life being sucked out of him like a low battery with a timer.
Han jisung gasped for air, the breath he knew would be his final. Before his eyes shut for good he glanced at his pc, a message from Minho coming through, a heart emoji. This made jisung smile as he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. He suffocated finally after a few seconds of nothingness, what jisung had wanted to experience most.
Minho knew jisung had done it. His webcam was on the whole time, FaceTiming his suicide to his only friend. Minhos only hope as tears streamed down his face was to let jisung die in peace.
He sobbed silently, his secret love had died in front of his eyes and he couldn’t help. Minho started to hiccup, Jisung wouldn’t have wanted him to see him die. He wouldn’t want him to cry, that hardly made it any easier though.
Minho cried himself to sleep and in the morning Jisungs father found his body while going to his room to scold his for waking up late.