My smile, people always complemented it. Saying how nice it was, how it showed my pearly white teeth, how cheerful I looked.
Fake. I couldn't think of anything faker. Funny isn't it, how easy it is but put on a facade.
They didn't know anything about what was behind my smile. A dead beat world, full of self hatred, aggression, abuse, darkness.
No one ever dug deep enough to know what happened behind the mask.
Each morning I woke up, already hating the day. I would walk to my bathroom and stare at my mirror, ripping on every one of my flaws. My high cheek bones bothered me the most.
After a while it got to a point that I hated my self so much I began to harm myself. Sliding the sharp, cool, metal down my arm, watching the scarlet blood ooze out. In a sick way I enjoyed the stinging pain. This was when I stopped wearing sleeveless shirts.
I enjoyed the stinging pain I felt in the shower, hot water running down my arms and legs, sliding into the cuts, and back out. Steam flowing out of the shower ,fogging the mirror up.
All the problems started with my father. He was the shittiest person I knew. He used to curse at me, yelling at the top of his lungs, lunging at me before slamming my body against the wall or sending a punch straight to my cheek.
But I learnt how to cover it up.
One person dug deep enough to get to know me.
She was beautiful, long soft brown hair that stopped halfway down her back. Soft pale skin, a cute smile and dark brown eyes.
We met at my dance studio.
She was the kindest person in the world.
I wasn't long until I was falling for her.
Little did I know she was falling for me too.
I let her into my world and she let me into hers.
She taught me how to use makeup to hide my bruises.
Her world was like her.....perfect.
She had a loving father and mother and a little brother. She had plenty of friends and a lot of money.
I remember the day I kissed her. It was as if time stopped and it was only us in the world, her soft lips coming into contact with mine.
After that we dated, they were that happiest months of my life. Until her father got transferred to America. I remember the tears running down her face as she told me, my heart slowly breaking, the thought of her gone intruding my mind.
We spent almost everyday together after that, until it was time for her to leave.
"Hobi...I love you...but I don't want to put you, me through the pain of long distance...."
"So what are you saying?!" I asked my voice cracking
"Hobi....we need to break up..."
"What why? We can make it work." I protested
She shook her head.
"No Hobi, if we don't do this I'll hate myself every day for it. Please forget about me."
"How can I forget about you? Us?"
"I'm sorry....goodbye Hoseok."
I watched as a tear slid down her already tear stained face. She turned around and disappeared into the plane, and I never saw her again.
I didn't text her or try and contact her, but I wish I did. One year later I found out she got killed, murdered.
I remember how loudly I cried that day. And how I itched to see her smiling face again.
I got sent an invite to her funeral, in America. But I couldn't attend, I didn't have the money to go there. I never got to say goodbye....
After that I fell deep into a depression. I didn't eat, I didn't sleep, I didn't go out. I was constantly crying myself to sleep. I don't know how I did it but I managed to pull myself back out of depression.
But I was still unhappy. Each night I could still hear the clanking of beer bottles as my dad yelled down stairs.
The abuse continued, so did my self hatred. I bundled it all up until I exploded.
One day I came home. The house was empty my dad was out. I screamed loudly and the tears slid down my face. I kicked the wall, tore the paintings down, threw my fathers empty beer bottles on the door.
The glass smashing on the floor, the sound echoing through the house.
"I hate my fucking life!" I screamed collapsing on the floor. My cheeks stained with tears. My chest heaving up and down. I kept sobbing and sobbing, I'd had enough.
I ran upstairs and opened the cabinet in the bathroom. I curved my fingers around the orange transparent bottle. I took my last few deep breaths, as I opened the bottle pouring the whole thing in my mouth, I grabbed a cup off the sink and filled it with water, brining it to my throat, letting it carry the pills down to my stomach.
A minute later I began to feel its effects. My eyes closed, my breathing stopped. My heart stopped.
Goodbye you horrid world.
See you soon....
Intense as hell chapter for you guys. Damn this is pretty crappy but I tried. This was an insight into Hobi's life before he died. And can I say this is one of the most depressing things I've ever written.
Back to normal JIKOOK after this.
By the way, y'all are so kind I've got so many new readers who vote and stuff.
I'll shut up now
See y'all on the other side.
Oh and another thing IM SORRY I DONT UPDATE AS MUCH AS I USED TO!
I think almost published 2 chapters a day, but school is messing me up.
I've got 1 week left and like 3 tests to complete in that week.
I've got 2 tests tomorrow.
Save me someone
I'll stop now