#in all ways except physical im laying face down on the road in this rain storm that's raging outside

[neonpigeons]

took me. over 4 hours to finally take out the garbage. but I did it. but now there's two other half finished tasks to finish :') I hate having a broken brain and body

[taetaejoah]

The Rain: Chapter 3

The world outside has become indistinct. An alien landscape defined by soft edges and muted colors. Clouds drape across the sky like a heavy winter blanket, opaque enough to block what would have been of the pellucid spring sunshine. This sky is different, unwelcoming and cruel,  it coughs out throngs of water, promising nourishment but drowning everything in its wake. It’s incessant, a suffocating hand against your throat determined to squeeze out every last breath.

Jimin only stops running when his mind finally manages to catch up to his body. He’s only made it about 20 feet but he can feel the water beginning to permeate through his layers. He needs shelter, needs to think, needs to get out of the puddle he foolishly stopped in. The ski goggles he’s wearing are covered in rain, but he remembers from summers ago that his neighbors have a relatively large porch that should be big enough for him to take shelter for a moment. He turns sharp, eyes scanning around until he finds it. A porch just big enough for two people, its dark and looks unstable, but its dry.  

Under cover, Jimin is finally able to fully take in his surroundings. It looks like a scene from a science fiction film. Trees are uprooted, houses caved in, the roads so flooded by rain they look more like rivers. And it smells, putrid and sour the moist air tickles his nose even inside the mask.

He swallows hard.

I’m living in a nightmare. For a moment he forgets what brought him outside in the first place, the screams having died down seconds after they began. The only sound outside is water on object, nature’s very own white noise.He’s staring slack-jawed at the destruction when it happens again. A piercing shriek of desperation that snaps his attention back to focus.

Using his sleeve to wipe his goggles he does a last minute check of his clothes. He estimates he has about 10 minutes left in the rain before the water gets to his skin.

He steps outside and begins to run.

The world around him blurs, his legs ache and his breathing sporadic his body is begging for him to slow down.

The screaming is getting louder. He passes by bodies, washed up and bloated from water. Whether they are friends or strangers he isn’t sure.

Please be alive. Please be alive.

His feet splash against the pavement. His chest feels like its about to explode.

I’ll save you. Please hold on.

He trips and almost falls on his face, grabbing hold of the speed limit sign at the last second to keep him up. He regains balance and looks ahead.

His heart drops.

He sees it now, a two story house halfway crushed by an oak tree. The front door gone, an amalgamation of brick and twigs. One wall stood, crumbled and damaged but too stubborn to fall just yet. A death trap, like jenga pieces waiting unsteadily to tumble back to earth and rest in an unkempt heap.

But someone is in there. Someone is fighting to stay alive.

In the movies, the hero always rushes in at the last second and saves the damsel in distress. They fight through fire, show immense physical strength, and immerge a champion to be written about for weeks in the daily newspapers. In the movies everything goes according to plan.

So it’s in stark contrast when Jimin climbs his way unsteadily into the house. Tripping over upturned furniture, eyes full of fear.

“Hello?” his voice is shaky, barely audible over the sound of the rain and screams.

He turns a corner, edging closer to the sound.

“Hello! Are you okay?” He’s louder this time. “I know you’re probably afraid but It’ll be okay! Im gonna get you out!”

He’s unsure whether or not he’s comforting the person or himself but it seems to be working.

He’s close now, but the door where the sound is coming from is jammed shut.

“Fuck.” He’s shaking but he doesn’t care. He pushes against the door with all his might. Nothing. He jiggles the lock, nothing.

“Shit shit shit.” He’s panicking now.

Another push. The screams are so loud it’s making his head spin.

Please don’t die.

“I’m gonna kick the door in okay?” He’s sure they can’t hear him over their own wails. They must be in immense pain.

He takes a deep breath.

“Okay!” He steps back.

One... Two…

He runs full force at the door and kicks the door with all the strength left in his body.

“Three!”

The door smacks open with a bang and he rushes inside.

“It’s okay! It’s okay! I’m here! I’ve-”

Jimin stops dead.

The room is empty. Nothing inside except a small water closet that holds a heating unit. A pipe has broken, hot air and water jetting out into the room. The combined pressure causing the high pitched shriek he so desperately wanted to believe was another person. Another survivor to which he could take comfort in.

He kicks the pipe, and the deafening noise comes to a halt as the broken pieces clatter to the floor.

How could he have been so stupid. He sank to his knees, taking in the sight that his brain fought desperately to comprehend. Worse than death, he was forced to mourn a loss that never was. To once more crush the hope that he had allowed himself to fill with.  Once again, he found himself drowning in the reality of his isolation.

“Of course”

He was tired of trying to learn how to swim.

“You’re all alone.”

He’d rather let the water fill his lungs.

And he erupted like a tornado. His rage like an untamed wildfire, engulfing everything in its wake. Smashing whatever he could get his hands on. Punching and kicking and pummeling desperate to feel. He cursed, hissed, cried, shredding the house to pieces while his thoughts replayed the same word over and over.

Alone. Alone. Alone.

“SHUT UP.” He slammed his hands against his temples.

“Shut up!.” another blow to his head.

“Shut up.” his knuckles began to ache and his voice began to drop

“Shut up. Shut up. Shut up” barely audible now the room began to spin. He whimpered, letting his hands droop to his sides. His body ached, having exerted too much energy with no food to fuel him. Stars glimmered in his vision and he began to sway.

His clothes were almost soaked through, he could feel it, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Good.

He dropped to the floor to lay on his back and look to the sky, rain pelting begin his goggles.

Make me forget.

He reached his hand up to his mask in an attempt to pull it down when the world started to fade away.

Smack.

His head was killing him.

Smack. Smack.

If this was what it felt like to die Jimin was going to file a complaint.

SMACK.

He opened his eyes and looked up.

A brown haired boy with a curved nose was leaning over him, wide eyed and...eating a twizzler?

Jimin blinked, where was he, what happened?

The brown haired boy smiled and twisted around behind him to grab the full bag of candy. Reaching into the bag he pulled out a long red twizzler and stuck his hand out towards Jimin.

“Want one?”