Jisung POV
It's 10pm and my work shift has just ended. I wanted to go home as fast as possible, because I was very exhausted. I worked as a barista for now, since it was the easiest source of money at the moment. Although the job paid well, I still felt extremely unhappy.
My dream had always been to produce and compose music. I liked to write down my own lyrics and melodies, and as a barista I couldn't really pursue that dream.
I waved my friends at work goodbye and headed home. The walk home felt like forever. I was so tired from the day and really just wanted to sleep, as every step I took felt heavier and heavier.
I have about a 20 minute walk from work to where I live.
After 5 minutes of walking started to rain. The rain always made me feel somewhat calm and melancholic, so I didn't really mind it. The only thing that bothered me was me getting wet and after that possibly sick, so I fastened my pace and finally reached my house.
I have always felt lonely here. I mean of course I do because I live alone, but I would like to have a roommate. Maybe a girlfriend or a boyfriend wouldn't be that bad either.
Actually screw the boyfriend idea. My dad would not like that. I have to make him proud and not be a failure that he claims me to be. I hated when he says that.
The first thing I did when entering my house was changing my clothes. I just put on a white t-shirt and grey sweats. I didn't really feel like eating so I just went straight to my bedroom. It was rare for me to be this exhausted, considering that I didn't even do that much today.
Everything that happened during the day would always bring my thoughts somehow back to my dad. He isn't even around that much anymore, but everything he said to me made me the way I am now. My life doesn't even feel like it's mine now. I feel like I just live to make my dad proud, and being a fucking barista doesn't help the empty feeling that comes everytime I think about not being worthy enough for my dad.
Due to him being like this, I often feel kinda numb and worthless, but I think that everyone has those days. Everytime I started feeling this way, I would just think about how others have it way worse than me, which made me feel selfish.
Some nights I just couldn't sleep, thinking about everything and nothing at the same time. This was one of those nights.
It's so scary to be alone, but I still am. Everytime I'm alone I can just hear my thoughts and nothing else, and that if something is truly scary.
It was 2am now and I was finally about to fall asleep, when I heard glass shattering from downstairs and after that a quiet, somewhat creepy giggle. I got up and headed downstairs, not bothering to even grab anything to defend myself with.
Weirdly, I wasn't scared at all. I didn't care if someone broke into my house. I don't have anything to lose, which made me kinda hope that there infact is someone trying to hurt me. Heck, maybe I could make the greatest friend of my life. I couldn't care about anything anymore, as I was tired of everything.
I went downstairs to where the noise came from. Everything was dark so it was hard to look around. I don't know what was going on in my head, but I just didn't want to turn any lights on. For once the darkness that I usually feared had become somewhat peaceful and made me feel at ease.
I went to the kitchen where I saw a broken window, which meant that someone had infact entered this shithole I call home.
I looked outside at the moon.
It shined really bright and looked very beautiful. I couldn't help and stare at it for a brief moment, not caring about the intruder.
Suddenly, there was sharp pain on the back of my head and everything went black.
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Word count: 723