❥(horror au!!)
" why aren't you scared of me? why don't you run from me? "
( after an accident, jisung has trouble sleeping. that is until one night, where he meets someone in his dream place. a boy around his age, chocolate brown hair, bright empat...
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WHAT DO YOU KNOW?
Jisung sometimes wondered if he could still speak like he used to.
Distant memories of his loud laughter, mixing in a cacophonic symphony with his friends, filling the empty streets or his bedroom. Joking around with eachother, smile evident in their words. Talking for hours with them into the late of night, about everything and anything, passionately.
What a privilege it is to speak. Something he had taken for granted before.
There were many things he took for granted. Like the feeling of rain against your skin. The sun beating down onto your neck. Laughter.
He couldn't remember the last time he laughed.
Much like, how he couldn't remember the face that belonged to voice that brought a overwhelming amount of sadness and happiness.
Who?
He had cried for hours after that sudden memory. But afterwards, he was stunned.
Why couldn't he remember?
He had read his files and the doctors has explained it to him everytime they visited to check his vitals. Fractures. Tears. Broken bones. Ripped skin. Punctured organs. A coma.
But nothing to do with his memory.
However, Jisung's mental state wasn't discussed so there could be-
Jisung froze mid thought, eyes narrowing in incomprehensible thoughts. Anxiety, that had plagued his mind, suddenly rushing through his entire body at the sudden revelation.
No one had discussed anything to do with his head. He definitely had problems before the accident, and now this, yet...nothing? No therapy. No counselling. In fact- no one had even uttered a single sentence about mental health or his internal state.
Because if they had, then perhaps Jisung could finally get rid of the things in his head? While it may be a refuge for a few shorts hours throughout the night, he left every dream feeling even more detached from the real world. Episodes of...confusion and senselessness. Nothing. Emptiness.
"Minho..." Jisung croaked, that being the only thing he's said in the last few days. The name, horrifyingly, felt familiar in his mouth. Maybe it was because of the excessive amounts of times he repeated the name in his head, testing every syllable with the voice in his head.
But as the world darkened, and his chest felt like pins were being pushed into it, he thought that he could say the name out loud to the boy himself.