Taemin’s body rested against the cold bathroom wall, his legs curled up against his chest. Tears gathered in his eyes, blurring his vision. The silence that surrounded him made his thoughts grow louder as endless warm tears streamed down his face. The darkness that surrounded him was pulling him farther into the corner where he is concealed from the notice of others.


Taemin's tears mixed with the drops of blood standing out on the white bathroom tiles. His sobs grew louder as memories came back adding on to the pain he felt. His lips moved in light whispers only he could hear, insults directed to himself. The harsh words he said were stolen from the voices in his head. He blinked rapidly in an attempt at clearing the tears away.

  Taemin's body was shaking slightly as he gathered himself from the cold floor. He carelessly let the razor drop on to the counter, the sound of the razor against the sink broke the silence. Taemin looked up, in the dim lighting of the bathroom he could see his own reflection. His bangs had fallen in front of his eyes, though he could still see the light red traces where his tears had been, standing out against his pale skin. Running a hand through his hair taemin looked away from the mirror, not wanting to see himself any longer.

The harsh thoughts hadn’t gone, but he chose to ignore them as best he could. He slipped his baggy clothes off and stepped into the shower. Turning the water the hottest it can get, he stood, the first drops hit his skin. The next seemingly hotter. The water soon felt so hot, it was cold. Steam from the shower fogged up the glass on the mirror. The water washed away the blood and the dirt from that day, but it still did not wash away the bad thoughts going through his head. His skin turned red, and soon he had enough.

Taemin shut off the water and walked over to a cupboard where he keeps his towels, a thousand drops of water falling to the floor on his way. He wrapped himself in the soft, warm towel. Letting it soak up the water left on his body. Using the same towel he crouched down and scrubbed the blood away, erasing the traces of what had happened.

  Taemin opened the bathroom door, leading him to his bedroom. The room was pitch black, the only light coming from the moon. Taemin tossed the wet towel aside, landing near a laundry basket in the corner. Looking through his closet, he grabbed a pair of sweatpants. The air was cold, causing light bumps on taemin’s skin. He changed quickly and slipped under the covers of his bed. All he wanted was some rest. The voices didn’t agree. All his focus was on blocking out the thoughts, the voices, the feelings. But the effort was a waste. They told him the things he didn’t want to hear, he wish it could all end.

He gazed down at his arms. Lines crossed and overlapped. The scars still there, each holds a memory of his. I’m not worthy of love, he thought. If I showed my dark side, would they still hold me at night? He wanted it to stop. The worrying. The hate. The dark thoughts. He reached over quickly to his nightstand and felt for a razor blade.

He brought it over and held it to his wrists with trembling hands. Prepared to make it, but he didn’t…

He never had the nerve to make the final cut.