The stitches on his back were now cracking open. Black sharp bones were slowly making their way through piercing the milky white skin. The pain was unbearable.

Probably so was his father’s when he stabbed him with the broken bottle and blood painted his clothes, his life, his soul. He watched his blood drenched fingers holding the weapon- he watched them like those weren’t his hand s and were those of his inner demons finally making their way out. Protecting his sister from their sick alcohol obsessed father was a priority to Taehyung. And it all ended in seconds- he ended nearly 50 years of existing just like that. Was their father really that old?

He had to run now, he had to hide. He called Namjoon. Ring after ring after ring after another one. No answer. The boy stood on the line crying, smearing the dried blood whispering silently “Hyung, I want to see you.”

Crack after crack, each even deeper than the previous one, appeared on Jin’s skin with every feather that grew on Taehyung’s shoulder blade. The boy watched his face slowly falling apart while on the other side of the mirror Namjoon stood helpless in front of the cracking glass seeing nothing but his reflection alone. There it was again- the phone was ringing and Namjoon was running to reach it for what seemed like forever. And it wouldn’t stop. Not until he would reach it and fall on his knees again pressing his sweaty forehead to the cold glass that separated him from the ringing. He was stuck in an endless loop of breaking down mentally, running, hoping that this time would be different but eventually reaching the cabin and breaking down mentally and physically again.

Somewhere on the other side Jin lined up six petals- each representing his dear friends. Depression overtook him the day they all took their lives and each day he bought six lillies until his room was full of them. Their smell made his head spin, it was harder and harder to breathe but he knew that he was soon going to reunite with them. Such a beautiful death- unlike the ways his friends took away their life.

Yoongi was running back and forth but always reaching the same lonely brown piano. His fingers shivered at the contact with the cold white ivories. Distant sound of a car crashing caused him to clench his fist and hit the wall beside him. He probably broke his knuckles again. Tears run down his face as he forced his damaged fingers to play the piano. The white ivories were now covered in blood- just like his best friend’s body was found cold and soaked in blood. Flashing images of Jungkook’s death made him scream his lungs out.

Jungkook woke up scared and shivering. He now stood up in front of the painting of a boy, covered half in red paint. Yoongi’s suicide damaged him- drawing his best friend all burned and covered in blood. All alone in the room left with just a bed and a canvas and his own thoughts. And this was the scary part- he was with himself only and the sound of the car crashing replaying in his head like the only sound he ever knew.

Jimin woke up in a cold white room- the same room he shared with Hoseok in the clinic. A good boy, drug addict but a really nice person. Neither of them came out cured. Thankfully their friendship continued to grow.

“Did you kill him?”

“I tried to drown myself. He has most likely overdosed.”

Jimin lived a lie. His whole life he was suicidal but he kept the image of the perfect son.

A lie was also what was happening now.

“He is right there! Look at Hoseok, he’s smiling!”

“No, jimin, he is not there. Did you get your pills? Jimin, are you dead or are you just sleeping?”

Jimin was confused. He wasn’t alone- he had the voices in his head who questioned everything. Ha-ha, no. No. Hoseok wouldn’t overdose again. Why not? No, he was here with him and they were pillow fighting. Look- he has a really pretty smile… There were the others- Namjoon, Jungkook, Yoongi, Tae, Jin- all of them came to see him and he was so happy to see them!

Wait.

“Where are you guys going?”

“The is with you psycho?!”

“NO ONE IS HERE JIMIN, STOP.”

Hoseok took a handful of pills. Swallowing them was a tough task but he managed to do it. He looked in the mirror. A skinny boy with raven black hair watched him with sad eyes, eyes that knew only sorrow and pain. The boy put on his jacket and went out. He didn’t want to die in his home, he didn’t want to dirty the house he grew in with his filthy body. Walking became harder and harder with every step he made. The sun shined brightly and the sound of the waves crashing under the bridge caressed Hoseok’s ears. Suddenly his senses were gone. Pitch black darkness surrounded him and only the sound of the cars was left in his mind. He was again in the white room but he was alone, surrounded by jars of pills, each labeled. His mind was playing tricks to him. He walked out of the room to see a big endless white wall and a single photo of a beautiful blue landscape.

“I want to be there with you” Hoseok thought.

“I wish we can see that together.” Jimin said out loud looking at the only thing that stood static on the white wall- the amazing landscape photo. He was now smiling and completely forgotten about what had happened just minutes ago.

They all met their demons and embraced them.

They were all in Hell.

In the seven circles of Hell.

But only one of them truly saw the Devil and became one with him.

Boy meets evil.

Boy met evil.