Yoongi opened his eyes and sat up, shaking his head and snaking his fingers through his hair. It had been a couple of weeks since he had fainted outside his house. His mother refused to let him out of her sight, unless he was with Seokjin or Jaebum or one of his other friends. Leaning back against the wall, he looked around his room. The wall on the left had his trophies and awards from various competitions. The right wall was empty, except for a pretty picture of a nature scene his aunt had painted for him.  The wall across from him… was covered with his and Yugyeom’s pictures. All of their memories were taped to Yoongi’s wall, reminding him every day of what he once had. Staring at them now, Yoongi’s eyes filled with tears. He wiped them away with a huff. He knew what he needed to do. 

    Yoongi pulled himself out of bed and changed into normal day clothes. He tugged the pictures off his wall and deposited them, gently, in a small box. Hurrying downstairs, he checked all the rooms. His father was at work, his mother over at her friend’s house. He quickly wrote a note to them, assuring them that they were in no way responsible for what was going to happen. Yoongi turned and slipped out the backdoor, closing the door securely behind him. He strode across the backyard and yanked open the shed door. The automatic light blinked on, illuminating all the yard tools and old garb the Min family had no need for. After rooting around for a bit, Yoongi found what he was looking for - his father’s plastic containers of oil, for emergency use. He splashed it all about, including the wood, although it wasn’t exactly necessary. 

    Yoongi latched the door and seated himself in the middle of the floor, pulling out his lighter, from his grandfather. He lit it with a deft flick of his finger, and barely hesitating a moment, tossed it towards a pool of oil. The flames flew across the shed floor, growing more and more as it traveled. Yoongi’s eyes stung a little from smoke as the old rotting wood caught fire. He lay back, clutching a certain, favorite photo to his chest. It was of their last kiss, their last happy day. The flames Yoongi’s arms, and he knew he should feel excruciating pain, but he felt nothing. As his eyesight dimmed, and the black of death came to receive him, Yoongi closed his eyes and pressed the photo to his lips.