Will You Find Me?

One

Tick tock tick tock

          The clocks tick along with my unorganized train of thought.

          "Hyung, how long have you been awake?" Jimin's soft voice wrenches me back to reality, giving me whiplash as I whip my head up to look at him. That's a great question. How long had I been up? "What was that?" Jimin's eyes light up with phantoms of concern. Had I spoken?

          "What does the clock say?" I can hear my bedsprings quietly creak under the thin fabric of my mattress as I rock myself lightly. "Numbers uncover everything in the end.." My voice sounds almost disconnected and broken in my ears, the sound of my nails picking at my bedpost mingling creepily with the eerie silence I have set. What has gotten a hold of me in these late hours? How long have I been alone?

          "2:47 am.." Ahh, five hours... I've been alone for five hours... "Hyung, are you okay? You haven't slept again, have you?" Jimin cautiously pads over to my bedside, taking notice to the deep crater in my bed post. His small hand tries to remove my fingers from the splinters but my body refuses to budge despite his efforts and the protest inside of my head. Why can't I move? What the fuck is wrong with me... I feel myself falling deeper into a swirling cyclone of darkness with every second that passes, the world around me getting more and more humid with my screams.

          The others had long since retired to their rooms and I'm lucky that Jimin has always been the one to come and check on me because even though I am stuck in this loop, I don't know how deep I would fall if Jimin wasn't here. Because he has always been the one that cares to this extent, I can see his heart break as he watches my fingers twitch in place when he lowers himself down next to me. My mattress groans in protest under our weight and a sigh leaves his lips as he deems my persistent fingers to be a lost cause, letting them tear apart the wooden post.

          "Hyung?" As he leans in to get my attention I snap my eyes up to meet his, making him jump slightly in surprise. I can almost smell his new found fear start to leak from his pores. My mouth begins to salivate as my excitement rises. What the fuck is wrong with me? His fear shouldn't excite me. This is sickening... But I can't stop-

          "I'm fine, Jiminie.." A smile peels itself across my face like old paint. "I've always been fine." Jimin now takes the opportunity to get up and leave, sensing my strange, primal urges. As if it has a mind of its own, my hand wraps itself around Jimin's dainty wrist before he can stray too far away from me. "Although the question is.. are you okay?"

          The boy's line of vision shoots down to where my strong fingers connect around his small wrist, his eyes as wide as saucers that are spilling over with raw terror. "Of course I'm okay. You should really get some sleep.." My hand tightens as he tries to pull away from me. "Hyung, let go." Tighter. I need to stop before I break something. "You're hurting me, let go!" The shrill panic in his voice snaps me out of my trance with a vicious shake of his arm. My face heating up with embarrassment, I immediately let go with shaking hands and wide, frightened eyes. Jesus Christ what have I done? My eyes travel over the deep red mark I have formed around his wrist, a trace of my own blood left behind from my torn up finger tips. How hard had I been picking on that fucking post?

          "Hyung, get some sleep before I force you to." His voice is shaky and I can almost taste the tears threatening to flood out from his eyes and onto his flushed cheeks. Without another word, he strides out of the room with his wrist cradled in his opposing hand. My eyes once again wander down to the pit I had created and notice the fresh blood faintly glittering in the dim light of my alarm clock. Jesus.. Has it really only been five hours since I started this?

          As I fixate on the metallic glitter of my blood, the sound of the clocks fill my brain again and I can physically feel my thoughts being ripped out from under me. Each word and idea being dragged down to hell no matter how desperately I claw at them and try to rake them back into a pile of dead leaves and the lifeless bodies of roaches.

Tick tock tick tock