Tomorrow, still Today| (Kim Taehyung)

Pe|tri|chor

-"Your voice, it chased away all the sanity in me..."-

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It's like there's silence the next days.

She is gone and I don't know, when she will come back.

It's raining. I don't know, if it's since she's left and just bittersweet irony or if I just see things. But whenever I look out of the window, I'm greeted by the rain falling down on the cold cement underneath.

It's like it's mocking me. The weather. There was no time for the sun in three days. It's already hidden behind those dark clouds.

I slump down on my bed, crossing my arms behind my head and looking at the picture in my hand.

The lake, it seems more important these days. It haunts my memory again, trapping me in my endless nightmares. They are here too. Everytime I close my eyes, everytime I blink. I get exhausted by it. It wears me out.

And there's only one image.

There's me. There's the grass, the trees in the back, the water in front of me. And there's Jungkook, red, soaked in his own blood.

There's no weapon and it almost seems calm except for the fact that the trees start burning and I wake up screaming each time.

There's no therapy in those days. I seem already riled up. There's no need.

The second day, the door opens and I'm expecting Sana to come in, sad or happy. But it's someone else and I frown when I can't put a name to his face.

His hair is dyed bright, almost white and there are glasses on the brick of his noise. He gives me a smile.

But I remain frozen. 

"Where is Sana?", my voice is hoarse and rings through the silence, that I've been resting in for too long.

Funny how this short period of being by myself disturbs me more than those three years.

I watch the guy in front of me, wondering, where I've seen him before. He seems so familiar.

He lets out a little chuckle and smiles at me.

"She will be back... in some time", he states, his smile turning sad and I huff out some breath in annoyance. Why can noone talk clearly.

There's always so much to find out.

"I'm Kim Namjoon by the way. We've met... last week? Was it last week?"

Now I know. He's the guy that let us slip through the hallway, after Sana took me to the sunrise. My face softens at that and I nod at him curtly, signaling him that I remember.

He pulls up a chair and lets himself plop down on it, sighing as he does so as I cock my eyebrows, a little startled.

"It's raining again", he mumbles and looks out of the window. I follow his gaze and look down as nothing has changed.

I notice the painting still in my fingers and quickly push it underneath the covers. It's the only thing I have left from Jungkook.

My mom came over that day, I lost my sanity. She didn't say a word. I could see the pain in her eyes and I never felt like dying more than in that moment. It would have been such a relief.

But she just took my hand and layed the painting into it, not saying a word, not looking at me the whole time.

I begged her but who was I to do such a thing.

She just lost both of her sons.

I am somewhat thankful for not visiting me in those years.

I wonder if she visited Jungkook.

The paint is almost gone already, stupid of me from touching it too much. I should have treasured it more. It's engraved in my mind.

I know every pencil stroke by heart. The green turning paler.

Jungkook always told me, that he would paint over his scars. I always wondered what that meant.

If he wasn't doing it. His arms were cut.

He didn't paint over them.

He painted so much pictures in his eighteen years. Never once one for me. Except this one.

And it's not that special but it means everything to me.

So I keep it hidden under the white of the sheet, away from the others.

This is mine.

Namjoon sighs and my gaze flickers into his direction, waiting.

"You know, I don't like rain that much... it just never seemed to occure me, how people calmed down at rain. To me, there's nothing to the world when everything's grey. It's the time when you see our world in all that ugliness that it tries to hide."

His pen clicks in his hands as his gaze is still adverted to the window. I eye him silently.

"Don't we all hide ourselves behind something? Our true selves?"

A smile forms itself onto his lip as he cocks his eyes into my direction, making me flinch.

"Clothes, a name, a title, laugh", he purses his lips before meeting my eyes again with a little smile.

"Maybe a smile?"

I flinch at that and look away. After a few seconds, he snickers. He sighs again.

"But one day, you can be sure about that, one day it will rain. And your mascade is washed away, revealing your true self. Only then you can know, if you're still beautiful underneath all that beautiful mascade of yours. Only then, you can call your feelings true- trust, forgiveness... love."

His voice trails off and I try to figure out what he's seeing as he turns his head around again.

"Isn't it beautiful to stand underneath the rain? Isn't it relieving?"

The rain prassles down on the window now, leaving it stained.

"... If you have nothing to hide."

I swallow harshly.

"When you're innocent."

My head cocks up at the familiar words and I feel myself staring holes into his eyes as my hands clutch around the hem of my shirt.

He smiles at me. Simple.

"What", I mumble out and feel myself tear up. "What?"

He purses his lips and slowly stands up.

"For some people it's different. There's some rare cases where it's switched up. Where they hide themselves behind a mask to tell us a truth. A truth which only they can figure out, if it's real. If they want to", he adds and I feel myself growing more confused.

There are the words. Truth. Innocence.

What are they doing to me?

What does this have something to do with me?

What are they doing to me...

My jaw tightens and Kim Namjoon turns around to the door, twisting the door knob.

As he steps out on the hallway, leaving me utterly confused, desperate, frustrated, angry, he says one last thing.

I can see his lips moving in the dark.

"Hang on, Kim Taehyung. Hang on a little more."

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Once again, I'm surrounded by silence.

And it's deafening.

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