I'm sorry

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  Jimin used to believe in fairytales, in fairies with transparent wings and soft glows around their tiny bodies, little gnomes with sour scowls and pointy hats

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  Jimin used to believe in fairytales, in fairies with transparent wings and soft glows around their tiny bodies, little gnomes with sour scowls and pointy hats. He even used to believe that if he looked outside through his bedroom window long enough, perhaps he would catch a glimpse of a vampire whooshing past or even the glowing amber eyes of a werewolf peering back at him from between the trees of the forest outside.

These little trails of imagination Jimin's youth left behind, was what brushed away the jagged scars of reality that stretched across his skin. With every moan his mother released from the room beside his, Jimin was tugged a bit deeper into his imagination- allowing him to believe that instead of being pleasured by a man, Jimin's mother was a powerful sorceress performing blood rituals on their kidnapped neighbours.

These thoughts shouldn't have brought him comfort, shouldn't have made him snicker and giggle to himself as he tapped his fingers against his window and imagined that the moans he heard, were wrapped in a blanket of pain, not pleasure. But they did. And Jimin won't apologise for it, since they had shielded him from the rougher parts of the world, only to allow him to catch a glimpse of the more disturbing images of reality.

But nothing in life lasts for long.

Kids grow out of their favourite pairs of sneakers and leave their stuffed animals in their shelves to dust, or teenagers are forced to pack their bags and create their own homes kilometres away from their old ones. Change is inevitable, but Jimin had never been prepared for watching his imaginary world crumble into jagged pieces of glass and be left behind for him to collect.

The fateful day he had lost his balance and toppled over the fence keeping him inside the glittery world built in his mind, Jimin had inhaled the wind prancing around him like an excited puppy and tasted the tint of saltiness on his tongue. He had never expected for the day to get twisted and moulded until it no longer resembled the fairytale it presented itself as.

Jimin could still remember rushing into the azure sea with the waves tangling between his legs, he could remember the pebbles of sand pushing against the soles of his feet and whining in protest at the weight placed on them, he could remember the heat of the sun dragging its nails down his shoulders and leaving behind marks of red.

Jimin remembered it all.

Remembered being swept off of his feet and under the blanket of an oncoming wave. He remembered being passed from a wave to a wave with each one hugging him tighter and tighter. He remembered the oxygen scratching at the inside of his lungs as it begged to be let out, the salt chewing at his eyes and the rough sand dragging over his skin.

Jimin remembered it all, remembered being pushed against the ground and held hostage by another large wave. Remembered complying with the demand of his lungs by breathing in a breath of salty water, remembered the bubbles floating above him until they breached the shimmering surface of the sea.

XOXO | YOONMIN |Où les histoires vivent. Découvrez maintenant