𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 || 𝐉.𝐉𝐊 ✓

⊘ • ❹❺ • ⊘

Glancing at the letter on the nightstand, I sit up slowly and take it. My fingers carefully rip the top of the seal open, and my greedy fingers snake into the envelope, wanting something to hold onto at this point.

I toss the envelope to the side and unfold the paper to my very eyes. I hold onto the paper gently while my eyes scan Jungkook's beautiful handwriting. I never thought the sight of handwriting could bring me to tears until now.

"Hey Bee," the letter begins. A sad smile spreads on my features. That's how I know it's him and not anyone else.

"I've missed you so much. I'm glad you're safe and far away from this place. You don't know how many dreams I've had about us since being locked up in this cage." He continues, and I hang onto every word.

"I dream about our future, our official first date where I can buy you a dress that would fit your beauty, our first time together. I've thought about all of it, and Vee, if not for those beautiful little fantasies, I would have already given up if I didn't know I had someone like you waiting for me outside."

The tears roll down my cheeks, and I cover my mouth when I choke down a cry. "Jungkook..." I mumble his name. I wipe my eyes and take a deep breath before I pick up the letter again.

"But it seems time doesn't wait for everyone. I'm going to be executed soon, without a trial or lawyer—they're going to kill me like a dog in the streets. This will be the last time I can talk to you, in a way, but it's better than nothing. So, I'm going to let it all out. I'm going to talk to you until I run out of paper to write on, which may be a while since I have a few more blank pages left over."

I cry with a laugh from seeing his drawing of a face with a wink next to his words. This is all too heartbreaking to read, but I push myself to do it.

"Before I start, I just wanted to tell you how much I care about you. Sometimes I feel guilty when I would think about you when I was with Acid, even though she tricked me and before Ghost targeted your father's store. I feel guilty I didn't try to stop him, even though I knew you were there. I just wanted better for you, but since I didn't step in, I've ruined your life. I wish I could live long enough to make it up to you and tell you how sorry I am for letting this happen to you. However, I hope telling you I'm sorry will be good enough until I see you again in the afterlife and make it up to you one day the right way." He writes.

"The others say they already killed Ghost, but I don't know if I believe them. Ghost is one tuff son of a bitch, and I highly doubt they could get the best of him. I wish I could tell him thank you, but seeing as I'll be dead soon, that won't be happening. If he did make it, could you find him and tell him that for me?"

I put the letter down for a moment, realizing he has no clue that Ghost is the bad guy, too. He has no idea that Ghost cheated his way out of his execution and replaced Jungkook in his spot. Nobody at the prison knows the truth.

"Anyway... I'll be dead soon, and I want you to start over somewhere far from this place. Go to Alaska like you've always wanted. I remember how cute you looked when you told me about wanting to live there, and I wish I only could have helped you get the money to go as I promised."

He still remembers that? As much as I want to continue reading, I can't do it. I fold the letter up and put it back into the envelope on the nightstand.

Maybe this makes me a terrible person, but I can't read it. I'm pissed because he doesn't know the truth, and I'm pissed because I can't do anything to save him right now. I'll have to wait, and I know I won't be able to sleep tonight or the next night or however long until we do this last mission.

It feels weird calling it a mission. That was always Ghost's thing.

Feeling my emotions get the best of me, I slip off the bed and walk into the bathroom where I pour a warm bath for myself. I haven't showered in a long time, and I know I need it, even if to distract me from my thoughts.

Pulling off my clothes and discarding them on the floor, I step into the tub, letting the water hit my skin so soft that it instantly relaxes me.

My lip trembles as I sink into the tub, hearing the water run and watching dried blood, dirt, and everything else wash off of my body.

I lay back for a moment, staring up at the ceiling as I cry to myself. This isn't fair.

How can I possibly lay here and enjoy this when others can't? How can I imagine relaxing when they are being tortured and dying? How can I allow myself to forget my thoughts and emotions when all they have are those to hang onto? All Jungkook has is his thoughts to survive, and here I am, trying to turn mine off like a light switch.

My hands come to my face, covering my eyes as I let it out and cry. I don't hold it in, letting each dry and hard cry slip out of me. I cry for them, for their pain, for mine, for Jungkook's, for Jimin's, for Taehyung's, for Barbie's, for Twix's because she can't cry anymore, for Hoseok's, for Yoongi's, for my parents, for Acid's, for everyone.

I cry until my eyes burn and my throat hurts. I whine relentlessly unless I tire myself out and can't produce tears or sound any longer. I lay in a pool of my tears, mixed with the filth and blood that's been spilled over all of this.

Sniffing without a thought in my head from crying too hard, I grab a sponge and wash my body. I run over the bruises and cuts, and the dirt in between my toes and fingernails.

I let the water out, letting the drain wash it all away as if never there, but I know it won't be that easy to erase the pain. It may be invisible, but it still lingers and forever will.

Once again I pour more water, letting another tub of warm water surround me as I sink into the bath.

I hold my breath and open my eyes underwater, hearing nothing as the water slowly rushes to my ears, silencing the unbearable pain.

I stay like that for seconds, maybe even a minute before I resurface and breathe again. I needed to know what it would feel like to be dead in this pathetic world, so I could understand how helpless the dead truly is, and I'm not one of them. I can continue to live until the day I breathe my last—until the day I sink and silence takes over me for good.

Until that day comes, I won't live underneath the surface, drowning out the pain and silencing the suffering from my soul. I'll live for myself and the ones who have given up and for the ones who no longer can. I'll live to recuse the ones who are drowning themselves in their own torment.

𓆩・༺ ꔫ ༻・𓆪