𝗔𝗚𝗔𝗜𝗡│𝗁𝗒𝗎𝗇𝗁𝗈

• 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇 •

[ m e e t  a g a i n ]

Now playing : losing you by Wonho

*.*-i'm lost and i can't find the way-*.*

The white walls were getting splashed with hues that began to swirl in psychedelics. The empty room was filled with the sounds of heavy paint scattering on the colourless walls, the liquid flying about in bows that dripped towards the floor. The frenzy of colours looked like a psychotic mess, it ate up the mind of it's creator. Whereas the petite figure of the one creating the chaos pulled on his hair, as he took irrational breaths.

He was clearly angry and the confusion rummaging on the walls didn't help him. He didn't know why he got angry, why he started all the mess, why he looked so haggard but one thing he knew was that all he could feel was a terrible excruciation that never failed to irk his mind.

He crouched to the ground with his hands supporting his body, throwing his head back. His front hair drenched in sweat,he bit his lips holding back stifles of hiccups, his eyes shut tightly. He was preventing himself from letting memory take him back to the day that he had hated with all his soul. He spited the date, not out of fear but because of the fact that he had never been able to get over it.

Right now, he wanted to run away. He needed to get out, get his mind away from reminiscing moments of the past. If he didn't, he wouldn't know what chaos he would recreate with his hands.

He walked out of the room, his hand holding onto the door frame to support his body, not bothering about leaving the mess behind. He didn't bother about changing his paint stained clothes that were blotched in bright colours all he could think of was getting out.

He ran down the flight of stairs, always keeping his head low. The middle aged man picked up his coat which was hanging by the doorway. Sliding it in his arms, he tucked in his shoes and closed the door behind his back never turning back once.

He walked out of his house without sparing a glance at his surroundings,only focussing on the various images playing in his mind. He didn't bother about the neighbours that were holding up their hands to greet him morning with hopeful eyes. Instead kept his gaze only at his feet. It might have been rude but he didn't want to look at people, he didn't want to feel his existence, he wanted to deny the very reason he was still breathing.

The sun was barely revealing itself while the mist was floating in a deep recreation of vapour. The wind was cold, blowing away, with soft hoots in each move as though whispering small words to the man and the lamp posts standing by the streets shed dew drops that blotched the corners of the man's coat. The cemented walkways resonated the sound of the man's shoes at each step, the sole scuffing against the rough surface.

Barely raising head, he tried to keep his mind calm by talking deep breaths. But his mind played memories that triggered the fear and anxiety he was struggling to suppress. He was biting his lips with his shaking hands hidden in the pockets of his coat. He tried hard to stop thinking about the various pictures etched in his memory but the more he tried the more the vague memories got clearer.

He was lost in his trance that by the time he raised his head, he was already in front of the bus stop. He could see the wheels halting right before his eyes. He continued to keep his head low, mumuring incoherent words in an attempt to calm himself. Hesitantly, he took small steps, contemplating if he should go where his body subconsciously concluded to take him to.