Spray painting 'murder' on a mansion's door seemed like a fun idea to the group of teenage rebels. Clearly high on drugs, they didn't expect to be watched by a man standing on a balcony above them with a glass of whiskey in his hand and an amused sm...
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2nd January 2014. Evelee's funeral.
Taehyung was staring down at the black high gloss casket with its red rose laying on top as it got lowered into the hole dug in the earth. Red. Red for love, respect and courage with one dark crimson flower in Taehyung's trembling hand. Sorrow and grief.
Red. Red for anger, unrequited love. Red for the color of blood. The hurt. The pain.
The casket was down. Dirt. Too much dirt. Way too much.
His mother was a classy woman. She didn't deserve this. His face was monotonous, dull brown eyes piercing themselves through the high gloss casket his mother's dead body was in, almost, as if he was able to look through it to spare one last glance at her face.
Wishing, to see the gentle curve of her lip again, the faint eyeshadow on her eyelids as they turned into crescents and her brown locks falling into her face only to get tucked back behind her ear with its pearl earring in it. Her laugh. He wished to hear it one more time. It was his favorite sound, he always loved hearing it.
He loved to see his mother happy.
But she wasn't happy. She suffered and suffered and suffered, till she finally couldn't take it anymore and ended it all, leaving her son all by himself in this cruel and pathetic world. He was blaming his father. It was his fault his mother suffered all those months. It should have been him in this casket, not her.
He deserved to rot in the dirt. Not his mother.
He ruined everything. He ruined his life. He ruined him.
He's the speck of dirt in Taehyung's life, that won't ever disappear. It's always going to be there. Even if he doesn't want it.
"A classy woman is never dirty," would Mrs. Rousseau say now. She'd shake her head in disappointment, scold the people who were letting this happen to his mother. And she would have gotten her way. Everything would be different with Mrs. Rousseau.
But she was buried somewhere beneath the people's feet, rotting in the dirt like she would have never wanted.
18 year old Taehyung stood still on his spot, the gentle touch of Levin's hand on his shoulder forcing him to turn around to get pulled into a hug of sorrow. He watched the other people leave, acting, as if they were mourning, even though Taehyung had never seen them in his life. He didn't remember any of them. So, why were they acting as if they were suffering?
18 years. They weren't in his mother's life for at least 18 years and still came here.
Why?
His brows were drawn together as he pulled away from the hug and looked back at the grave with the two men using their shovels to throw the earth back into the hole. Dirt. They were throwing dirt onto his mother's casket.
"Let's go," Levin said, slipping his hand into Taehyung's and sending him a weak curve of his lip, "The others must be waiting already."
Waiting. They were waiting for Taehyung, so he'd hug them and accept their fake sincere words or sympathetic smiles. Maybe giving him a bunch of flowers.
As if flowers would make him feel better.
"No," His hoarse voice spoke and instead started to walk into the opposite direction, past the two men with their shovels and into the depth of the woods near the graveyard. The sky was grey, thick clouds fighting against the rays of sun in livid anger. It looked like it was going to rain soon.
The grass scrunched beneath their feet, dead people under them, rotting in the darkness, the dirt. "Where are we going?"
Levin's simple question was what made them meet up with their friends to sit in the forest with cigarettes and alcohol, weed in Jaden's pockets. Taehyung threw off the jacket of his expensive suit and leaned back against the hard surface of a tree.
His friends always cheered him up. Or maybe it were the drugs and alcohol. He didn't know. And he didn't care, as long as he felt better.
He couldn't stand the constant thoughts in his head about his father, the man he despised with all his heart. His mother, who he had loved the most in his life, buried beneath his feet after taking her own life.
The scene always in his mind not being able to leave him alone even for once.
His 18th birthday, the day everything seemed to fall apart for him. Drunk and with a pack of cigarettes he stumbled home, struggling to unlock the door.
His hands were cold, trembling, his sight doubled and blurry. Everything was spinning as he was finally able to step inside their house. He assumed his mother was sleeping, the silence in the house loud, almost unbearable. Stumbling, Taehyung went to the stairs, head turning to the side when he saw one of their kitchen chairs laying on the ground.
Worry.
What if someone came here? Was his mother okay? Was she injured? Questions over questions, to which he soon after received his answers.
Not a sound left the birthday boy as his blurry gaze slowly wandered up to the figure of his mother. From her feet dangling in the air up to the rope wrapped around her neck tightly. Her eyes were closed shut, skin almost looking pale white in the darkness of the room with bright purplish-red bruises from the rope around her neck.
Her head hung low, brown hair falling down with her arms flatly beside her motionless body.
"Mom..." Taehyung had croaked out, voice barely even a whisper as he reached his hand out to his mother's cold one.
30th December 2013. The night he saw a dead body for the second time in his life.
His mother was gone. His father was in jail.
He only had his friends.
Not earning any money, because he was still going to school, was what made him start dealing with drugs. How else was he supposed to pay the bills? A student job? No, it didn't pay enough. Drugs, money, alcohol. And the feeling of doing something bad, the adrenaline pumping though his veins, when he stole for the first time. Or when he beat someone up for mentioning his father's affair. It felt good. And he liked it.
He grew addicted to being bad. To see people cower when they saw him and his friends. To see the surprise of his old neighbors, when they saw little Taehyung become the worst version of himself.
It were no longer gentle smiles on people's faces when they heard his name.
