Isolophobia: The fear of being alone or in solitude.

warning!: This chapter contains mentions of self harm. 

 

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And so he was alone. In his own house, his own room. Although it didn't technically belong to him, it was a refuge of sorts. A safe haven. Kind of.

His grandfather had died 2 years after he moved in and his grandmother liked to travel around the world to get her mind off the she had for a grandson.

Come to think of it, the payment of his house was coming up in a couple of weeks. Hopefully, Dairy Queen was in the need of a janitor.

There were no intruders of any kind. No scary monsters or demons waiting to his blood. There was nothing like that because he knew he was alone, and when he was alone, social etiquette was not needed. There were many benefits about being by himself, wrapped under mountains of blankets and darkness. But Baekhyun was afraid of the dark and of cramped spaces, so an escape route was redundant.

Malicious thoughts thrived in the hell that was Baekhyun's mind. With no outside harm to distract him, he was, quite frankly, ed.

Sinister whispers made him take sleeping pills for a good night's sleep. Moths sat on his bed and suggested making red lines on his wrist to release stress. Satan himself came through his window at 3 in the morning and gave him a pep talk about how great it would feel to jump from the tallest building in Seoul and feel the wind on his skin.

Baekhyun had acted out many of these ideas before. Self-harm was no longer a taboo word in his vocabulary. Neither was suicide, but he hadn't gone that far, yet.

Nobody had come to his rescue on those days. It was Baekhyun who ultimately felt guilty about leaving the world behind. Not that the world cared. It was just the bright red words reading "failure" imprinted on his forehead that made him falter.

The nagging fear that he would not be remembered hit him like a truck. Fear wasn't a good enough excuse to end his life, even if it was worthless. He would be 18 in May for God's sake, he was young and he had so much ahead of him. What a waste of time and breath would it be to leave the Earth quietly without at least making it shed a tear?

He wanted to make a difference, to leave a scuff mark on the world. To make it bleed and hemorrhage and die, just like the he had to go through.

But his hands were too small and his spirits too low. The footprints he leaves behind would be blown away by the wind before they have a chance to be discovered.

For him, death wasn't an escape or an easy way out. To him, death was a ghost that weighed his shoulders down and emptied his lungs with a single touch. Death was a thought that his brain processed and filtered enough times to make it seem easy and comforting.

But like with most thoughts Baekhyun had, It always managed to turn against him and turn into his worst nightmare.

Tired and perturbed, Baekhyun closed his eyes and sunk further into his dark brown sheets. He didn't feel hungry and certainly didn't have the energy to shower. He fell asleep with one last thought in his head.

Maybe, if god is kind enough, sometime in my sleep, I can drift off into Heaven and not wake up tomorrow. That is if it's God who awaits me on the bridge between life and death.

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The next morning, the angel named Oblivion had not come for him. It had instead left a trail of tears and pain he would have to deal with later.

He stood up on wobbly legs and headed straight to the kitchen. His stomach was killing him, but considering he hadn't eaten in the last two days, he was feeling okay. Bile rose to his throat.

The stench was incredible. Baekhyun had yet to smell a decaying body, not that he ever wanted to, but he felt that this is what it would smell like.

Had it actually been two days since he had eaten? The situation his refrigerator was in made it seem like 2 weeks.

With virtually nothing in his stomach and a pounding headache, he got ready and left for school. He didn't go because he wanted to, but the pills in his bathroom cabinet reminded him that if he stayed home, school would be the least of his worries.

School had been as kind to him as a rare bacteria towards its host. It didn't care what happened to the person it infected and no known cure had been found yet. People wouldn't even know the person was diseased until the person died of neglect.

His feet moved on muscle memory while his mind occupied him with nasty thoughts of misery and the plague. His eyes failed to recognize the tall figure approaching him and the quiet hum of a bell.

In a flash, Baekhyun's belongings flew to the street along with Baekhyun himself. The bastard in the bicycle didn't even look back to apologize.

He stood and dusted off his uniform, he didn't need more dirt. All of his pencils and the endless pages of essay were strewn across the pavement. The wind wasn't helping his situation either.

A dozen honks screamed in his ears while their owners screeched from the interior of their vehicles.

He failed this morning too. He was noticed, he was yelled at, and he was once more at loss. Like crying over having spilled milk in an ocean of water. One in which he was drowning.

He cried the rest of the way to school, preferring to take the long way to have more time to let it out.

Once he was at the gates, he took a deep breath and stepped into his regular hell. The cacophony of useless conversations made its way into his head, echoing in his thoughts.

Quickly, he ran to his first period dodging the scattered teens in the hallway. He peeked through the small window on his classroom door, confirming there was no other presence inside.

He went in and sat at his desk. He laid his head down, closed his eyes, and painted images his head. The creaking of the door reached his ears, but thinking it was the teacher, he let it slide.

"Um... Is this Mr. Lee's Class?"

Oh no

 

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A/N: I'm late and it's short but i had to prepare for a friend's quinceanera and didn't have time to write. sorry!

also it's not edited. SORRY!!!