The moist evening mist covered Yongguk in a sheen of water, but he was too exhausted to do anything about it. Little rhythmic whispers and echoes of the rain’s pitter-patters were all he could hear as the darkness settled in. His raven hair blended perfectly with the night. Muscles were screaming for help, pain seeped through his nerves. And even though all of this register to his head and his body yelling—swearing at him to get up and find help—his mind couldn’t care less and stayed there motionless.

Anything was better than what he had to deal with back there. Yongguk couldn’t even call there its proper name, or at least what the name it should be. However, he clearly knew that being here was better there, that… that hellhole. Even getting himself beaten the out by people who only wanted to mug him for anything valuable, was better. So in a heap on the cold concrete street alley, Yongguk laid his head against the brick wall as he allowed this gentle rain penetrate and sooth his many bruises and other patches of discoloration. Not to mention that his clothing were damp, sticking to his pasty alabaster skin. Hair folded down and around Yongguk’s swollen forehead. And with a shoe all the way down towards the opening, which connected the alleyway to the street, there was really no motivation to move. However, in all honesty, Yongguk didn’t have any real motivation to live in the first place—actually no—existing.

In the 22 years of his life, Yongguk merely existed. Eating, sleeping, moving, breathing—all of the mundane things a human must do in order to function. But, what was the true meaning of being alive? To be living? He had no answer for this nor had any real hope of finding that answer.

So laying all alone in the middle of the midnight rain, Yongguk closed his eyes as he just accepted his predetermined fate to remain in this never ending draining cycle of just existing. The rain beating to a strange lullaby that allowed him to sink into the dark chasm of his mind.

~