This is a drabble I found in my WIP folder. I was debating where to put it and who the unknown person would be. Well I got suggested Sungyeol, cos I've been about how I wish I could write Infinite, and I decided to put it here rather than in a story cos I am not sure how I feel about it...

It was going to be longer but I decided to just leave it cos it hit too close to home.

Warning: depression, mention of suicide. 

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Heaviness gripped the body in the bed. Limbs refusing to move and the mind trapped inside, moving faster than the person wanted. Thoughts swirled around and none of them happy or pretty. He should be trying to get out of bed, he promised himself that he could do this but his body was refusing him. Getting out of bed meant having to face the world, having to leave the safe cocoon he had created out of pillows and blankets.

The world was scary and harsh. The world judged him and wanted him to be a certain way. He didn’t have a place there so he wanted to stay here. Here was safe. He wasn’t expected to do anything here, he didn’t have to put on the mask that sat so stiffly on his face. His counsellor had told him time and time again to ‘fake it until you make it’, but it was so hard. So hard to pretend to be fine and not scream at the first person that asked politely ‘How are you?’ not really caring how he really was.

He wondered if he was alone with these thoughts, he didn’t think he was. There must be millions of people feeling the exact same way as he is feeling. So why couldn’t he get out of bed and function like them. Was he a coward? He knew he was naturally lazy, so was this just an extension of this? Should he be able to snap out of it like some people told him to? He’d tried to. But maybe he wasn’t trying hard enough. Maybe he was defective. He was clearly a waste of space, he didn’t contribute anything to anyone. If he disappeared off the face of the earth no one would care. The few friends he had would mourn for a little while, but he wasn’t that important to any of them. He wasn’t influential, he didn’t have a job, he didn’t have much of a life.

It would be so much easier if he one day didn’t wake up or got hit by a car while crossing the street. It would lessen the guilt that burdened him from the moment he woke up with twin scars on each wrist and he saw the terrified face of his mother. One of the only reasons he even functioned some days was the guilt he felt towards his mother. It wasn’t a strong reason but it was enough to keep him going for now. He needed to cling to something otherwise he wouldn’t be able to connect to the reality that surrounded him. Not that he was ever connected very strongly.

He turned over and looked at the sunlight that was peeking through a gap in the curtains and wanted to see more of it. But that would require him to leave his haven. Something he wasn’t willing to do today.

Maybe tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow he would be able to face the world. Maybe tomorrow he could start afresh.

**

I promise next Sungyeol drabble will be as happy as the Christmas one >.<