Pain... He had been in pain for months but he would never get used to it. Plus, being used to pain just proved some part of his still sane mentality was gone too.

Mir opened the pipe and filled the bathtub with warm water to help his sore and tender muscle. He walked to the sink waiting for the tub to be filled. He peered into the mirror. He looked normal except a bit pale Mir wasn't hurt anywhere it could be seen.

Mir pulled up his white t-shirt a bit and pulled down his grey sweatpants just enough to expose his torso. Mir grimaced and bit his lips at the nasty scars, old and new. Scars that he put on there using his own hand. When he smarred his skin with that blade, he did it without any thought. He hate pain. Yet he still did it. Because doing that put him into another type of pain. Physical pain. Physical pain that shadowed his emotional pain. Because physical pain was still bearable. Unlike the wound in his mind. Kept bleeding and never stop.

The pain was unstoppable. It only paused for as long as Mir's head was clouded with pain of the wound on his body. But only until after the wound healed and turned into yet another scar. Then, the pain he hated the most came back to him. The pain in his already sick mind.

He needed to get out of this. But how? He couldn't tell anyone. He didn't want to get any other soul involved especially not his sister. His now poor sister lying on the hospital bed. Because of him. He didn't want any other harm came upon his sister anymore. No more...

One word clouded his mind... Disappear. Yes... that was right... Disappear. Death... Wasn't that bad, right?

Even if he was sent to hell, it wouldn't be so much different from now. He was already in hell anyway. Mir opened the mirrored cabinet and reached for a bottle of pills. Mir knew it was Joon's forgotten sleeping pills which Joon left here even when he had left MBLAQ.

Mir uncapped the bottle. He didn't have to think. He just acted on impulse. He need to get away. And this was the only way. He gulped down the pills. Few of those small white pills fall in sink and on the marble floor. The now empty bottle fall next to Mir's feet.

Mir reached for a razor blade and closed the cabinet. Again, nothing was in his mind as he made a long deep slit on his left wrist. He watched for a while as the crimson red warm fluid dripped down from the cut along his forearm onto the sink and the floor. He smiled. It still hurt. Could he considered himself still normal for knowing the pain and hate it? He raise his bloodied hand and made another long deep slit on his other wrist. The cut showed how he had no hesitancy or any intention to stop. Like the pain in his mind, he was unstoppable. He just wanted it to end.

Mir dragges his feet to the tub, leaving trails of blood along his way and he closed the pipe. Still fully clothed, Mir eased his weak body into the tub filled with warm water. It felt good. He exhaled softly. His arm laid limply on his side in the water, causing the blood to disperse in the water while his other arm was dangling at the side of the tub. He felt sleepy. He wasn't sure if it was the sleeping pills or the loss of blood. He didn't care. He just wanted to sleep, hoping he wouldn't have another nightmare.