Kyungsoo could hear the sounds of his own heartbeat echo in the air. He lay still without any movement, yet his pulse was rapid. He could feel something warm drip off his eyelash and sliver down his cheek. Kyungsoo twisted in the bed over and over again until he finally reached the edge and tumbled onto the ground with a thud. He popped his eyes open and jumped up from the cold floor. It took him a few seconds to realize that the drumming he heard was his heart. He his lips and sat down on the edge of the bed trying to calm himself down. This was the fourth night in a row that he’d had a nightmare, and it was the fourth night that he’d dreamt of the accident. Every time he saw Suho, every time he tried to save him, and every time he failed.

Kyungsoo homed in on the beating in his ears and tried to fight back the tears swelling in his eyes. He squeezed his eyes shut. There was no sound except for the air conditioner that had just kicked on. He cupped his hands over his face and wept. His muffled cries breaking the silence and making the room heavy. Kyungsoo could only hear the echoes of his cries and that made him feel so lonely. His heart was crumbling to pieces and there was no one there to catch them when they fell. He kept wishing he could go back and change it, change everything, but he couldn’t. There was nothing he could do about it.

Kyungsoo stood up whipping the tears from his eyes and stumbled dizzily into the bathroom. He closed the door and let his body rest against it. He closed his eyes wishing he could just fall asleep, but he couldn’t. He picked himself up from the door and leaned against the sink. He looked up at his reflection in the mirror. His face looked as if someone had gotten red paint and doused him in it. His eyes were puffy and swollen. He twisted the knob on the sink faucet and splashed the cold water onto his face. It was refreshing considering his face was on fire now thanks to the crying. He dried his face with the nearby hand towel and sat down on the lid of the toilet.

He propped his elbows on his knees and rubbed his face. He looked over at the sink counter and found a pair of scissors, a single pair of scissors. He picked them up and opened them to expose the blade. He looked down at his wrist and then at the scissors.

His chin began to quiver and the tears came streaming down his face once again.

He placed his hand in the middle of the scissors in between the two blades and pressed the sharpest one against his skin. The metal was cold, but not painfully cold. Kyungsoo imagined slicing through the pale barrier now and releasing the warm red liquid that it held inside. He imagined the blood streaming down his arm and the pain he would feel. He imagined the physical pain being so much that it took away his heart’s pain. He imagined the pain being so overwhelming that it knocked him out. He imagined it killing him. That’s what he wanted. But then he imagined Suho. He imagined Suho standing in front of him teary eyed and whimpering, begging him to stop. Begging him to put away the blades and stop.

Kyungsoo’s hands grew heavy with guilt. The scissors were too much to carry now, so he dropped them. Everything went numb. He couldn’t see anything except for a blur of colors and he couldn’t hear anything except for this ringing in his ears. He closed his eyes and counted quietly to himself. One, two, three, four. His breath was shaky and his body was weak. Five, six. His voice caught and he felt the tears continue down his cheek. Seven, eight, nine. He whimpered, wishing for it all to stop. Ten. He opened his eyes and everything was the normal again, no blur of colors, no ringing, no fright. He stood up and walked out of the bathroom back to his room to finish his book. The scissors were still lying on the cold tile of the bathroom floor.