Scary things, bad things, insignificant nothings, mixed together in a sick medicine, a concoction for depression, a way for suicide, crumbling me, ruining me, crouching in a corner at 3am, cowering from the monster, the pure horror of a beast that feeds on betrayal and pain. Its claw like, skeletal fingers inching towards me with rapidity and menace. I’m the last, the only one left, everyone’s gone, the monster got them all.
Yixing’s blades are blunt, the blood scrubbed off in a torrent of lost memories and burnt-out pain.
Baekhyun’s 2am pitter-patters through the black silences had faded into easily forgotten darkness.
The callouses on Chanyeol’s fingers healed into scars of insecurity and ‘I’m not good enough’s, broken guitar strings slicing his fingers again and again during early morning practice sessions, each chord strummed echoing self-loathing, self-hate.
Jongin’s stifled sobs, smothered by thick blankets, the fabric sodden with the oblivion of the other boys, they have been silenced completely, his words of anguish muttered under torch-lit covers, fallen off his tongue into a dark pool of old times and poisoned tears.
Kyunsgoo’s cold, fiery eyes gaze smouldering into dull embers pushed carelessly into the back of my tainted memory, his judging, melodramatic insults that cut like knives of disgust and anger now collapsed into ashes swept into a corner, soon to be disposed of.
Minseok had long abandoned his sleeping pills, the few that were left convulsed with toxicity and lurid colour at the bottom of the jar in the no longer visited kitchen cupboard.
Jongdae’s fingers, charged with betrayal and pain, twisting his sin scarlet in sick unconcentrated punishment, each skin cell screaming in torture was  silenced and ignored by blank eyes and shadowed cheekbones.
The strong, silent facade of Sehun had been smashed long ago, the shattered glass of his shield cleared away, crumbling into dust riddled with achievement and pride but also vulnerability, agony, hurt.
And me? Me, left to clean up the gaps and holes and mess. Me, the strong bold one left behind when the others fled, when the strife, heartburn and desire got too dominant. Your presence vanished, leaving a horrid mess behind.
12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.
Well, monster. What are you waiting for? I’m ready.
Twelve, Kris, you started it all, you were the one who betrayed us first. I tighten the knot that hangs around my neck, the rope burning my fragile, broken skin.
Eleven, Lu Han, who followed, the one who couldn’t face his fear, when all of us were confronted with worse horrors your naïve mind could never begin to fathom. On shaky legs, I step upon the stool.
Ten, Tao, to you, the messiest departure plunging us into depression and suffering. I swallow the contents of the cup, its unknown ingredients creating a whirlwind of burning and anguish over every inch of my body.
 Nine, Yixing, the one I thought who would stay till the end. What a fool I was, to not see the pressure riding on your shoulders. I drag the knife down my arm, relishing the stinging of my skin being ripped apart.
Eight, Baekhyun, the small, discreet one, who let his fears overpower and smother him. I let my tears fall, salty and toxic.
Seven, Chanyeol, you liked to pick fights, you thought it was okay that you lost your temper too much. Thought it was okay to push the responsibility to the remainder of us. I slit each of my fingertips open, my hands trembling against the hilt of my knife.
Six, Jongin, you tried to be courageous, withstand the pain, but in the end suffocated yourself with your duties. I clench my hands around my neck until I start hacking and choking, my throat burning.
Five, Kyungsoo, too cold and sarcastic for your own good, ended up wanting to kill the very brothers you loved. With dry, swollen lips, I mutter every profanity and curse I’ve ever heard, each syllable laced with venom.
Four, Minseok, trying to dull your pain with drugs, curious about the numbness and escapism of pills. With shaky hands, I tip the rest of your sleeping tablets onto my waiting tongue.
Three, Jongdae, the humble one, the kindhearted one who blocked his confusion out with self-punishment. I twist angry red blisters all over my skin, nails digging into my ruined flesh.
Two, Sehun, the young one with no experience and all innocence, whose purity was blemished at too young an age. I take a deep breath and let my last few tears fall with a vindictive bitterness.
You all left. Why shouldn’t I?
One, Junmyeon, the ‘guardian angel’, the one who was supposed to protect 11 boys from hardships and horrors. The leader who failed. I step off the chair with a fleeting sense of freedom, and wait for death to come.

[END]

word count - 815
character count - 3,909

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thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed x