Everything was falling apart.
Jungkook was now fully ignoring Taehyung, and he had not the slightest clue why, his parents were back home and making his life a living hell, he arrived at school with fresh marks, bruises, busted lips, aching muscles, bones that felt like they were broken and on fire, pounding headaches, and he felt like something was sitting on his chest making it hard for him to breathe.
He was literally miserable.
His friends noticed the bruises and the way Taehyung limped and whatnot, but they figured Bogum had gotten ahold of him before they could protect him, so they didn't say a thing about it besides asking if the small brunette boy was okay. All he did was give them a lame nod of his head as he avoided them the rest of the day-or at least tried to.
It was hard when he had most of his classes with his best friends, and when he entered each classroom, there were nothing but stares, weird looks, whispering, pointing, snickers, and laughs. He felt humiliated just because of the way he currently looked. His face was completely covered in bruises and cuts, the back of his head where it had split open was aching and still bleeding, so he threw his hood over his head so no one could see it.
He knew he needed stitches, but there was no way he was going to a hospital. There would be too much questioning, and not to mention there was no way in hell his parents were going to be nice enough to take him. And he surely wasn't going to tell his friends about what happened either, so he was stuck with a pounding headache, a room spinning and making him feel nauseous, a churning stomach, and vision that was constantly fading in and out.
He remembered after their little fight how his parents just left him on the floor in a pool of his own blood from where it was seeping from his split open head. He was cradling it, praying for the pain to finally stop so he could get up and off the floor and head to his bedroom. He didn't want to be around them anymore, so he had to force himself to stand up with wobbling legs and heavy limbs as his head spun from what he assumed was a concussion his father had given him.
He had locked himself in his room and didn't attend school the next day due to his insane migraine that he couldn't seem to get rid of. He did go the next day after his day off, and it just so happened to be Friday, the night of Jungkook's football game. The raven-haired boy wouldn't even look at Taehyung, and as much as it would normally have hurt him, he didn't really care anymore about anything.
It didn't bother him anymore that Jungkook was now some stranger to him, and it didn't bother him every time the boy walked right passed him, or looked right through him, as if he were never even there. The rumors didn't come to a halt nor did they slow down any either, and the rumors about how he and Jisoo are supposedly a thing now disgusted him. And he wondered if that's why Jungkook had stopped speaking to him, because ever since those rumors started flying around school, he noticed how Jungkook didn't even come sit with them during their break and just left instead.
The rumors became more frequent, and that's all he was hearing now. It was always about him and Jisoo being an official couple, and all he could wonder was who in the hell started this one, because he and Jisoo absolutely hated each other's guts. He had remembered the other day when she had come to their table, and all she did was harass them all. The thought of him even being with her in any kind of way disgusted him to no end, and he absolutely hated the rumors that were being spread about them currently.
So he wondered if that's why Jungkook was avoiding him like he had the plague. But whatever reason it was, he didn't care anymore. His life was a shit-show, everything was falling apart, and his father's words we're echoing in his ears, his voice on repeat in his head, and he couldn't get it to stop. He knew his parents wouldn't care if he had finally took a blade to his wrist and slit a vertical line down it, because if it killed him this time, that was just an upside for them.
He had no motivation to keep going, because his parents were only making things worse for him, making his life a living hell, and now a certain bunny boy was no longer even looking his way. When Jungkook was around, he had a reason to live and keep going, but now he's gone and now he feels so alone and lost and so broken, he didn't even know what to do anymore. The whole world was against him, and the rumors at school weren't helping any matters either.
He felt so lost and broken, like no matter where he turned he was still in the place he had no idea where he was, and no matter how many times he tried to pick himself up and off the ground, and no matter how many times he picked up the pieces that were scattered everywhere, and no matter how many times he tried piecing himself back together, everything just fell apart again in the end, and the pieces went everywhere once again.
He's never felt this lost before. He felt like he knew where he was going when Jungkook was still currently in the picture, but now that he's gone, everything seemed worse for Taehyung. The whole school had their eyes on the small brunette boy, whispering things he couldn't care less to hear about himself, pointing his way, probably at the marks he had on his body, the dark circles under his eyes, the way he limped and held his sides, the way he cradled his head when a sharp pain shot through it every time he turned his neck too fast for his body's liking.
It wasn't a secret Taehyung had gotten into a fight, but nobody knew who he had gotten into it with. The rumors of Bogum being the one who had gotten ahold of him spread like wildfire, too, and as much as Taehyung wanted to object and say they weren't true, that Bogum wasn't the one who did this to him, he kept his mouth shut and went along with his day. He felt eyes on him all the time, and he didn't feel safe every time he walked down a hallway by himself, but then again, he didn't care anymore.
That once flustered feeling he would get every time Jungkook looked at him a certain way-an adoring way with a fond smile on his lips-it was now gone. That tornado of butterflies he felt in his stomach when Jungkook complimented him, or just even looked at him had vanished. That once happy and warm feeling he got every time jungkokk would give him a hug disappeared. That tingling sensation he felt every time the raven-haired boy would touch his arm, or his back, or run his fingers through his hair was now dead.
He felt nothing.
He didn't feel any pain, he didn't feel any anger, he didn't feel any kind of emotion. It was like he was now numb to everything and his emotions had completely shut down. He felt nothing, and it scared him because he was never pushed to this point before in his whole life. He felt cold like a killer, except he wasn't a killer. He was still Kim Taehyung that everyone knew and hated. He was still the kid everyone picked on and spread rumors about.
The only difference was he didn't care anymore.
He really did think Jungkook was the reason why he used to me a smiling and laughing mess, but now it's all gone and he truly misses it, but most importantly, he missed him. He wanted to figure why Jungkook wasn't talking to him anymore, but there really wasn't a point if all he was going to do was turn and walk the other way once he seen Taehyung walking in his direction.
Taehyung wouldn't do it because he wanted to save himself the embarrassment and the rejection the older boy would give him. So he decided to just let things be the way they are, and hopefully maybe he would soon one day wake up and open his eyes to see and realize that none of the rumors are true. Or maybe it wouldn't happen and Taehyung would still have to go through all of this alone with no one's help, because he knew his parents weren't going to help him.
Taehyung didn't want to sit in the cafeteria with anyone, so he walked into the bathroom down the hall, in hopes to get away from everyone. Luckily, no one was in the bathroom, leaving him alone with his swirling thoughts. He leaned against the counter beside the sinks, his elbows resting on the hard surface as he brought a hand up and rolled down his hoodie sleeve, looking at the white lines that ran across his skin.
He traced them with his index fingernail lightly, his eyes peering down at them with half-lids, his lips forming a line line, his face holding no expression as his eyes scanned the lines that ran across and down his wrist. He traced the vertical line that ran down the middle of his wrist until he reached its end. He kept tracing it and tracing it, thoughts clouding his mind, remembering the reasoning behind each and every scar he ever made on his body.
He wondered if he did it again if he would succeed this time, or if it would be just another failed attempt to escape everything. He drug his thumbnail along the white line, the lines he's been hiding from everyone, from his friends, from the school, from Jungkook, from his bullies, from his parents. He couldn't let them find out about them, even though his three best friends know about his cutting habit.
It had stopped when Jungkook came into the picture, showing him what it was like to feel loved and wanted and cared for and protected, but all of that was gone in a blink of an eye. At this point, he wondered why he even stopped cutting, because it took away all the pain he felt every time his parents beat him, every time Bogum got ahold of him. It took it all away, and now he wondered what's the harm in starting it back up again.
Because, really? What was the harm?
It took all the pain away, it took all of his doubts and fears away, it helped him in more ways than one. Well, Jungkook actually helped him in more ways than one, but he was no longer a part of the picture anymore, so he wasn't here to make him feel like he was worth it, so maybe he would start it back up again, because everything was already crumbling beneath his feet, what's the harm in starting up an old habit that helped him?
"Need a blade? I got one if you need it."
That voice always sent extreme shivers down the male's spine, and he would usually freeze at the sudden voice he's came to despise, but now-now he didn't care. It was like he was immune to his venomous voice, and when he tilted his head up and seen Bogum standing behind him at the entrance of the restroom, watching him with amused eyes as Taehyung traced his faint scars with his thumbnail.
"Thanks for the offer, but I got one at home," the small brunette boy murmured as he rolled his sleeve down so he couldn't see them, even though they were so faint and almost blended in with his creamy skin tone. Bogum scoffed as he unzipped his bag and stuck his hand in it, fishing something out of it. He soon handed Taehyung a small baggie that contained a razor blade, to which the small brunette eyed weirdly, and as if he hand had a mind of its own, he hesitantly reached out and took the small bag between his two fingers, "I said I didn't need one."
Bogum just chuckled evilly as he zipped his bag back up before walking away, leaving behind a confused Taehyung, wondering why on earth was this man-his bully-helping him with something like this. The bell rang, causing the small brunette boy to jump at the sudden loud noise, shoving the bag containing the razor blade in his bag with shaky hands, biting his bottom lip before slowly making his way out of the restroom.
And for the rest of the day, his mind was stuck on that stupid razor blade.