Caramel Macchiato// Namjin

01

I sat on the wooden floor of my apartment with my head in my hands. The sweaters of my black long sleeve shirt covered my hands as they tried to stop my eyes from crying. Everything was a mess. I  was a mess. I felt so distressed and empty, my mind was all over the place and my hands were shaking. I tried to make them stop, but I couldn't. My eyes wouldn't even close anymore. They were bloodshot and red but they wouldn't close. I could barley get in a fleeting blink.

Why am I like this?

I haven't shown up to my job in days. I haven't moved from my spot on the floor. My body ached and I jumped every time I heard the mail man slip something under my door. I couldn't see from where I was, but I supposed that there was a pile of unopened letters there. My phone was dead too. I was in a slum and I wanted to get out but I didn't know how. I felt like I was in too deep and that everything was crashing in on me. The walls were so far and I felt so alone yet I felt so overwhelmed.

I was used to the sitting in darkness and the doing absolutely nothing but breathing, but now I wanted to do something and get out of the black hole that was my apartment. I slowly averted my eyes to the door, as if it caused me exhaustion to do so. It was still bright out and that meant the cafes around here would be open. They would have coffee, right?

I need a coffee right about now. 

My limbs moved on their own, sluggishly and almost not at all, but I was able to get up. I dragged myself to the bathroom. It was a mess. The light flickered and the mirror above the sink was cracked. A couple towels fell on the tile by the sink and the floor was littered in pills and orange bottles. I pushed some aside with my foot and stood in front of the sink, turning on the faucet. I washed my face and it reminded me that I should pay my bills before all this gets shut off.

I looked at myself in what was left of the mirror. My brown hair was out of control and dark circles were apparent. My sweater was tinted with red from the last time I got blood on it. I traveled to my room, not even acknowledging the clutter. I slowly peeled the sweater off and grabbed the first I saw; a pastel pink soft sweatshirt. I grabbed my wallet and stuffed it in my jeans pocket, checking that it wasn't empty. After shoving my feet in black converses, I stared at the door.

This is the most I've done in a while. Can't I stop now? If I stop will that be admitting defeat? But why should I want to win? Oh shut up Kim Seokjin. Go get your coffee.

I psyched myself up and opened the door, grabbing my keys which had fallen to the ground, and locked the door behind me.