I didn’t mean it. Truly, I didn’t.

But at the very same time, it was what I wanted.

It started out as nothing. Nothing but thoughts, explosions of consideration that flooded my mind almost overwhelmingly at that moment. They were anything but passing— they stuck with me, attached to my brain stem and begging for attention. I wanted them gone, but no matter how loudly I screamed at them to go away, they stayed. They stayed, and God, it made me angry.

It made me angry because I was trying, trying so hard to be happy. That’s who my friends saw me as, right? The happy one; Minki, the bundle of joy, he smiles no matter what happens to him and nothing can ever get him down. He’ll cheer you right up with his jokes, his sillyness, his seemingly unending optimism. Yes, to the people I knew, that is who I was, and it was clear that scarcely any of them knew me as well as they thought they did.

One.

I stared down at the palm of my cupped hand, where a small, red pill sat unmoving. For a morbid moment, I almost wanted to laugh, at how something so innocent, so insignificant, so… Simple, could cause something so terrible. I rolled it around my fingers absentmindedly, feeling myself moving back into that cloud of thought once more. Those God damned thoughts. Their gory images flew in and out of my head at an unbearable pace, tragic scenarios that plagued me day and night. I squeezed my eyes closed, feeling the familiar burn of a dozen sleepless nights, and prayed for strength. To anyone who would listen. I suppose, there was no one to hear.

Two.

Biting my lip, I wondered what else I could do. I silently scoured the various ways I could get myself out of this one. Of course, it appeared as though such a thing had become a hobby of mine; looking for solutions, always trying to find some kind of sanctuary. Well, it was definitely something that helped me sleep at night. But I saw nothing. I saw no other way. Slowly, the thoughts turned audible, becoming whispered voices coming up from the base of my skull. My mouth unconsciously mimicked the words that I heard, 'Do it. Do it. Do it.' A horrible mantra.

Another.

The tears were flowing now. But my eyes didn’t sting anymore. The once dull ache settled elsewhere, somewhere deep in my chest, and it felt like I had swallowed fire; the only thing reminding me I was still alive was the pain.

And another.

It was becoming harder to choke back the sobs that worked so hard to leak away, but I managed, crouched over the side of my bed as my hand balled into a fist. I really was weak, wasn’t I? And a hypocrite, overall. What was I always telling everyone? Be happy, don’t worry, it gets better… It gets better… God, the lies I’ve been telling. What false hope I may have given. All I’ve done is dull their blades, and now it won’t just cut, it’ll rip them right apart.

One more.

It was Hell. I was completely, and utterly miserable. 

But that was okay. I was done. I was atoning for my mistakes now. I thought back on how wrongly misjudged I had been, how empty my reputation had been and I felt myself begin to cry. Cry, again, for the fifth time that week. And it was only Tuesday.

The truth was, I wasn’t happy. I hadn’t been happy for a long, long time. If only they knew the misery that laid behind that smile, the insomnia in those eyes; if they only looked closer and saw how my hands shook when I reached out to them, or how I so often hugged them, just because I found it hard to keep myself standing. I decided, it didn’t matter anymore. I had a way out. I was going to take it.

I dumped the pills in my hand on the ground and craned my head back as I downed the entire bottle in one go like candy, tossing the empty shell behind me. That was it. That’s all it would take. Soon, my burden would end. My shoulders shook with muffled sobs as I waited for the inevitable, and it wasn’t until the floor came up to meet me that I had realized what I had done.

My chest tightened. 

Is this... Really what I want...?

... No...

No.

No.

I don’t want this… I don’t want to die….

It was as if my common sense had finally surfaced, and I felt an incredible panic start to settle in my stomach. My vision began to blur, and my pounding head turned frighteningly numb. My heart, desperate to sustain itself, beat as fast as it possibly could, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe.

With what strength I could muster, I gripped the sheets of my bed and struggled to pull myself up, making a grab for my phone and dialing the first number that came to mind. The combination of weak lungs and choked wails left me gasping continuously as I dialed the first person that came to mind, Baekho. But it was difficult. And I was scared. The device kept dropping from my trembling hands, and by the time I managed to get him on the line, I was fading in and out of consciousness.

I rolled onto my back, gasping for air, taking what I was so terrifyingly sure were my last breaths, before everything became dark… And colder than it had ever been…

"Yeoboseyo?" …. "Yeoboseyo??" ………

……..

"I’m sorry…"