Pairing: Wonho (Monsta X) x You/OC (written in first person)

Genre: Super Angsty

WARNINGS: character death/suicide

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It was a lake we always frequented, one close enough to our neighboring homes that allowed for a short enough journey to get there.  Even though the distance was short, the travel was difficult. Great trees stood close together as if they were a noble army standing strong to deter any advancing enemies, and the uneven ground added an extra line of defense. Not many people attempted to gain access through the daunting and seemingly impenetrable wall, but those who did received a breathtaking view as reward for their struggles.

 Through the trees and shrubbery, past the many fallen logs and awkward bends, laid the most beautiful, crystalline lake set in this part of town. It shimmered so brilliantly any time of day, some could have mistaken it as a pit filled with tiny crystals rather than endless water. The area was calm, not even the lapping of the tiny currents created any disturbance. It was as though, with each visit, we left our life behind in the busy town, and magically transported ourselves to a more serene, mystical place. Even the trees bowed down to the beauty of the lake, having arched themselves closer to the water over time.

 The lake had become special to us, a place where secrets were revealed and promises were forged. My childhood friend, Wonho, knew of this place before I did, but once he showed me the tranquil land, we both announced it as ours. And it will stay ours forever.

***

I met Wonho when we were both young children, my family having moved next door to his, one pleasant summer. His family introduced themselves immediately, being as friendly as ever, and remaining that way through the years. We were both shy with each other at first; unsure of the lines we could cross just yet. But our parents wouldn’t tolerate our shyness; as cute and adorable as it was, they wanted the both of us sibling-less children to become friends, and have someone we could play with.

 Being shy only children, it didn’t take long before our parents’ wishes merged into reality, and we became nothing short of inseparable. We did everything, and went everywhere together, forming a close bond that rivaled those created naturally through blood lines. And this bond proved to be the key for me to unlocking the secret lake.  

 It took a month after moving before I was deemed an acceptable individual to witness the lake, and by the end of the summer our afternoons of playing together always lead us to that particular body of water.

 The water itself was mesmerizing and hypnotic, almost daring us to get closer, closer. But we didn’t listen to its addicting whispers, choosing rather to play safely on the banks and imagine new worlds brought forth by our imaginations. It wasn’t until we were teenagers though did the meaning of the lake change.

 It was late May; the weather was just starting to change for the better, and the lake was now fully thawed from its icy confines. I had remained home yet again, needing to finish some school work that had somehow managed to pile itself up. My parents had just returned home from their errands and decided on a relaxing afternoon on the back porch.

 It was quiet for a few moments, my parents listening to the gentle soundtrack nature provided, and myself listening to the constant hum of technology as I tried desperately to keep my distracted mind in check. Suddenly, a loud bang jolted everyone from their thoughts, the sound being an unnatural note to the score. We all rushed to the front of the house, only to find a panting Wonho with hands on his knees and his head lowered between them.

 “Wonho, what happened?” My mother was the first to speak, breaking the peculiar atmosphere lingering around the boy. Something felt off, wrong, and it wasn’t until Wonho raised his head with tears streaking down his paled face did our trance collapse. We all began moving at once, going to Wonho to offer support and begin leading him once again to his home. He didn’t say much, but managed to force out a strained “father” through his tear stained lips.

 I felt like I was in a daydream, going through the motions with everyone else, yet not believing it were real. Seeing Wonho cry and crumble was unheard of, my eyes seeing him as someone incredibly strong and dependable. He had only cried once in the time I had known him, and it was when we were both very little. We were playing by the lake just after a heavy rain, the dirt still soft under our feet. I was trying to keep up with Wonho, who, once again, took the lead in our little adventure. I got so caught up in listening to his new story-world that I had missed a footing and slid, with a cry down a short hill. Wonho ceased his movements immediately, turning around carefully to see what had happened. He started calling out my name when he didn’t see me behind him, beginning to desperately cry and sniffle when he didn’t see me over the cliff either. Apparently, my tiny body was hidden by some low hanging branches, and he failed to spot me, thinking the worst had occurred.  I managed to move - thankfully not hurt, just wet and dirty - and I grabbed Wonho’s attention from below. All of a sudden, as though a switch flipped in his personality, the tears and snot were replaced by a sincere bravado, a bold resolve to save his precious friend.

 That was the only time I witnessed my friend cry, and I was waiting once again for that switch to flip. I knew though, in my gut, this time would be different.

 We made it into Wonho’s home to see his mother in a state worse than his. She was slumped over herself on the couch, tears cascading down her face in messy streams. Surrounding her were crumpled tissues, embracing her like a pillow made out of sorrow. In her hands was yet another tissue waiting to be added to the growing pile below her, but she also held close a wrinkled piece of paper.

 Once again my mother made the first move, going to sit beside her distraught friend. I guided Wonho to the other couch; both of us sitting too close for comfort, but wanting to feel each other’s warmth and life. My father left for the kitchen, opting to make everyone tea; even though he knew the cups would just become awkwardly placed decorations until the liquid turned cold.

 We didn’t say anything for a few moments, wanting our presence to become an accepted part of the home. It was obvious something drastic and heartbreaking had occurred, but it was better to take a short pause before jumping into the dark.

 “Ok dear, do you want to tell us what happened?” My mother tightened her hold on the shaking figure beside her, offering a promise of secure comfort.

 It was a few more tense moments before she spoke, bringing enough pieces of her shattered mind together to be able to speak. However, like her son, she was only able to rasp out a short sentence: “My husband,” before breaking down worse than before.

 “What about your husband dear?” My mother was attempting to pry out any information she could; however, the crying lady was having none of it. Instead, she dropped the crinkled paper into my mother’s lap, curled into herself more, and cried even harder.  

 I took a moment while my mother was reading whatever words were scrawled on to the paper to study Wonho’s face. He dared not move or speak since the time we sat down, and I was certain he had gone paler than before. I would have thought he were dead, or at least a statue made from wax, were it not for the faint rise of his chest during every inhale. Even his eyes were unblinking, just staring blankly at a spot only known to them.

 An intake of a sharp breath made me return my gaze to the other couch that now also occupied my father; obviously having snuck in while I was worriedly looking over my friend. Five teacups now sat on the small table, waiting patiently for hands that would never reach out to hold them.

 “This can’t be real! Oh, I’m so sorry.” I had yet to fully understand the situation, but with my mother’s exclamation, and her eyes joining in on the teary disposition, I had an inkling as to what had transpired.

 While my mother shared the sorrow of the family, my father took the paper and read for himself the transcription of events. His eyes became larger with each passing word, and by the end of the paper, his eyes were bulging and his hand was covering his mouth in absolute shock.

 “No, this isn’t real. He’ll be back, just you see. He’ll be home in time for dinner tonight, and this will just be some cruel joke.” My father spoke both for himself and the grieving family. It was understandable he was trying to provide hope no matter how futile it was, but from the way his eyes were leaping around the room, not resting on any single thing for more than a second, his denial was evident. He was providing positivity not only for the family, but for himself as well, deep in denial that he may have lost his good friend.

 For the first time since we got there Wonho moved, standing shakily on two feet before exiting the room then the building all together. I knew where he was going, having his destination been our place of escape for any reason throughout our lifetime. I followed silently after him, my movements going unnoticed by the adults attempting to find solitude within each other.

 My pace was slow behind him, wanting to give him some time alone before I again broke into his solitude. By the time I reached him, he was perched on a large rock, formed ruggedly at the edge of the lake. I took a seat beside him, leaving some space between us, but still close enough for him to feel me next to him.

 He spoke first, “He’s here, my dad. A part of this lake now for all eternity. I knew he wasn’t doing so well lately, but I didn’t think it was this bad. I should have seen it. I should have helped him more.”  

 We both watched the water, flowing silently as though it were ignorant to the horrors that just occurred. Nothing disturbed it, and it didn’t disturb anyone in return, but the depths beneath the surface held a deep darkness more due to the secrets it harboured, rather than a lack of light.

 “Wonho, what exactly happened?” The lake wasn’t going to give me answers; the mysteries it possessed forever remaining submerged and lost under the water. I hoped Wonho would open up to me once more, not simply for my curiosity, but to help ease his frazzled mind as well.

 He spoke after a few more silent minutes, “My father was depressed, fought it for as long as I could remember. I was young, so I never truly understood it or what he was going through, so I didn’t know how to help him. Now I wished I found a way – found a way to help him and save him from this ending.”

 “I’m sorry, I never realized.” I kept my voice to a whisper, not wanting to disturb the melancholy peace. I never knew his father was that close of friends with sadness, but I figured I never really looked too far into the signs that were so obviously in my face. He was always quiet, and rarely smiling, deciding to spend most of his days indoors and alone. I’m sure more happened behind closed doors, so I’m not totally surprised I never came to this devastating conclusion.

 One question was still lingering in my mind, and despite my subconscious reprimanding me that I knew the answer and should not pry any further, I asked anyway, “What was on that paper?”

 “It was his suicide note; apparently life got too hard for him. I never told you exactly how I found this lake. It was thanks to my father – he had found it years ago and showed it to me one day. He always held an appreciation for nature and wanted to share it with me. It was our spot before it became yours and mine. He drowned himself in this lake; he merged himself with the only peace he could find in his depressed life.”

 Wonho looked down and began to cry again, his tears falling and mixing with the clear water below. I moved myself closer to my friend, wrapping my arms securely around his trembling frame.

 “I’m sorry. I’m here for you if you ever need me.”

 It was the only comfort I could provide at the moment, not having any other words come to mind to offer more strength. We sat still, side by side, gazing out into the lake, until the sunlight bid the earth farewell and the moon stood proud in its place.

 The months following were difficult to bear for everyone. Our families became distant despite our attempts to remain connected. It was astonishing how the death of one person could have such a resounding impact on multiple people and many lives.

 I made an effort to see Wonho every day, or at the very least message him when times proved to be too busy. It was challenging to maintain contact, especially when I became aware of his purposeful avoidance of me. I knew he was still going to the lake, feeling a connection with the body of water now more than ever, but our visits together were becoming less frequent. I recalled a conversation we had once by the lake, a few weeks after his father’s death.

 “When I die, I want to be buried in this lake.”

 “Huh?” His voice vibrating through the still air startled me, and I almost missed his sudden words.

 “Why do you want to be buried here?”

 “My father is here, and I want to be with him forever.”

 As morbid as that conversation was, it made perfect sense. He always looked up to his father, holding him in such high regard and seeing him as a god among people; he took the death harder than anyone else. Both men also held an uncanny connection to the lake, almost to the point of hypnotic obsession.

 A year had gone by, easily I became friends with lost time and scattered memories. The death of Wonho’s father seemed like an eternity ago, but it was hard to forget the exact day he married Death. Today, the earth felt silent, as though everyone and everything knew what happened and decided to pay their respects with hours of silence.

 I wanted to spend the day with Wonho, believing that today of all days he should have someone to lean on. With my parents having the same thought, they accompanied me to the neighbouring house, pushing the already ajar door open further. The scene before us was slightly unexpected, but not one unfamiliar. Wonho’s mother was once again sitting on her couch, curled deeply into herself and surrounded by a growing pile of white tissues filled with despair. Tears were gushing down her cheeks and dripping past her chin into the creased tissue and paper she gripped in each hand. The only thing missing from the scene was the body of Wonho, usually present by his mother’s side.

 I froze at once, feeling my stomach drop before time settled completely still. Call it intuition, sixth sense, or just a really damn good guess, but in that moment I knew for a fact that history had repeated itself. At once I felt scared. Scared for myself, for Wonho, and for the only remaining family member he left behind. And then everything was falling; the reality of what happened crashing down from a height that felt as though I should have died from the impact.

 For a second I forgot how to breathe; forgot I was still a human, alive and well. But the next second I was gone, sprinting out the door faster than the tears streaking down my flushed face. I made it to the lake in record time, but not without trouble. The roots in the ground seemed larger, and the twists seemed deeper; I fell and stumbled more times than I ever had before. I blamed my tears and foggy mind for not being able to see or think clearly; the only thought looping through my conscience was to get to my destination at all costs.

I stood on the familiar jagged rock, glaring out to the water that now seemed to make a mockery of the peaceful land.

 “You left me alone! You really know how to make me cry you jerk!” I felt a surge of anger replacing the scared feeling earlier from the house. I knew he succumbed to the dark path his father took, and I wanted to hate him for what he had done, but I hated myself instead. He said himself that he wanted to be with his father, I was just stupid and naïve to assume it was when he died naturally and not when he forced his young life to end.

 I should have been aware of the signs this time as well, or at the very least forced ourselves to spend more comforting time together. Instead, I allowed him the space he said he wanted, figuring at the time I was respecting his wishes and doing what was best for him. It wasn’t until he too became charmed by Death’s vows and accepted its proposal did I regret every decision I had made the previous year.

 “It’s no fair!” I sunk to my knees, once again wasting away the day until the sun fell from the sky, and the dull glow of the moon replaced its fiery counterpart.

 For years after, the lake was a spot that I still held dear, finding solace through the trees. I felt Wonho from the lake, imagining that his body had become one with the crystal water and giving it a spirit to live off of. I would stare into the lake whenever I went, feeling mesmerized by the shimmering ripples. In some odd way it felt as though the lake had eyes – Wonho’s eyes – and each time I gazed out into the lake, I was really looking again into the depths of his own, staring back at me with such calm certainty.

 I don’t know when it was, or how exactly it happened, but one day I realized that I too wanted to be buried in the lake – to make our special connection of friendship forever transcend through time and realms.