Forgive me for the slow updates, my mental is not doing well and I'm questioning everything. This will be very raw. Please, check on your friends.

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A black hooded teenage boy walks along a empty road, the stars shining down at him in the pitch dark sky. The moon was shining so brightly, it was as if the sun decided to stay right behind it. A teenage boy walking alone down a street at night wasn't unusual for the most part, however the eerie feeling of just walking made it so.

There was a feeling around the lonely figure, dragging himself along down a narrow path that led nowhere and yet he wanted to be somewhere. A feeling that he thought he had forgotten had crawled right back up to his head, and through his scars they buried themselves once again inside. That feeling of being restless; society being stacked on his shoulders, and only pain was present. The need of attention and lust for touch was so heavy, and yet all he wanted to do was to be alone. Though, being alone made him feel lonely.

Looking around at silent houses, parks, and benches made him realize that maybe he really was. The pain and hatred put his heart in a cage, the key being lost and nowhere found in the stash of blindness. There was nothing but carelessness in his decisions, and in the back of his mind he repeats that he doesn't care, and yet his urges want him to. He hated it, he hated it here where he was. Wherever he went, it was all the same. It felt like he was going in circles in a large fish bowl, being gazed upon by spectators who only watched him for amusement.

His hands always seemed to feel cold, and his body was rejecting everything that came in. His eyes laid heavily on his face, wanting nothing but to just close and stay closed. He wanted to cry out in pain, and for his anxiety to waiver away like it was never there. However, nothing ever came out. Not one single emotion found its way to his face, and not a single word forced itself out.

His feeling dug themselves so deeply in his body, and the feeling of being numb became so much that he decided to embrace it. Looking in the mirror, the only thing he would see would be tears and bloodshot eyes. The look of remorse and regret was so vivid, it almost felt as though the person he stared back at wasn't even him.

The mask he put on long ago, suddenly wasn't a mask anymore.

A cold breeze flows down from the clouds, and the boy shivers as he hugs his frail body. He grits his teeth, making his way off the road and down a small trail. His feet dragged themselves down the bank, and water became distant to his ears. The crunch of leaves and grass pierced the silent air, and the leaves above shook slowly with the embrace of wind.

The slow rushing of a water stream became clearer with every step, and approaching the small stream there was a small bridge in front of him. It was a small painted bridge, in which the paint was peeling and the wood was chipped. It was old, however sat stable over the stream of cold water.

There was something about sitting alone over a rush of water and letting his mind clear that drew the boy. He sat down on the bridge, the creaking of the wood assuring it was older than him, and dangled his feet over the edge. Staring down at the bare visible water he had a sudden urge to just cry, but he didn't. He simply let himself stare, and infill his hearing with the sound of rushing water.

Impulsive thoughts were everywhere in his mind, telling him to jump into the cold burst of water. He wonders about them, the thoughts lingering so clearly in his mind, and considers them. If he truly did, would his pain end slowly or quickly was always the question. Would his body freeze to death, or would he have to wait for the loss of feeling? He wanted to know, and yet his body resisted the urge to take act.

The thought of waking up tomorrow to do the same thing as today made him tired, so very tired of repeating the same life just to get through. The thought of having to wake up just to hate living made it seem impossible to keep going, and yet here he is - sitting on a bridge like he's done to many times to count.

He just wanted to feel something, something so surreal and exciting that made his heart race. Something that made butterflies fill his stomach, and make him want to go on another day. However, things like that never last forever, such things leave so soon and then you're left with nothing but the longing for more. Nothing ever last forever, and if it does then it was never meant to be.

The boy had enough of the nights where he couldn't breath trying to go sleep, for his nose was filled with the aftermath of crying. The breaking down of his self esteem and mental health made him realize just how harsh reality was. Some people would ask about his family, and it was always the same thing.

People always expect families to be there and to be supportive, nobody ever believes that there is toxicity in blood. However, they're terribly wrong and brainwashed by the empathy. His mother was emotionally unstable, not even being able to raise them anymore as she's given up. His father was stuck in prison for something he didn't do, and his brothers and sisters were just as cruel as the system. His sister was in college, living a fulfilling life with a boyfriend and happiness. His brothers were simply living through life, wasting their lifetime playing video games and sleeping. It was surely a life to look back upon and regret.

Him and his family had never had a good relationship, as he got older he started to educate himself and realize right from wrong. Argument went on all the time, and back and forth a distance grew between him and his dysfunctional family. He remembers heading home, however staying in the car while crying as he didn't want to go in. He remembers feeling so scared, and caged stepping into the household. He hates it there, and so many times he wishes he was never born.

He remembers arguments in that house between him and his mother, who he tried so hard to please was never satisfied. He remembers forced therapy sessions, counseling and the caged freedom of going out with friends who he had lost in such a short amount of time. It felt like the pain was only growing in his heart, weighing down and keeping him in the same spot. He didn't trust anybody, and to the seems of it, nobody trusted him either.

Abruptly, a vibration made itself present in his pocket from his phone. He pulls the cracked technology out of his pocket, looking at the caller ID. It read a name, Jaemin, and the boy took a breath before pressing the green phone button.

"Hello?" Jeno whispers into the phone.

"Jeno! When are you gonna get here?" The voice over the phone yells, and Jeno furrows his brows in confusion.

"Where?" He questions.

"The sleepover, did you forget?" Jaemin inquires.

A sudden remembrance shocks Jeno, and he covers his face with his hand in disappointment.

"No no, I'm almost there." He lies, and rest his forehead on his head as he closes his eyes.

"Oh, ok! Just checking, see you soon." The other hangs up, and Jeno lets out a curse.

He quickly gets up, and suddenly takes off running towards a familiar way. Running, he feels another weight of regret stack itself on his shoulders. He gets to the desired house, letting himself stand in front of the door while gaining his breath back. He takes a deep breath before knocking, and feels anxiety creep upon his spine.

The door opens, revealing another teenage boy who let a large smile sit upon his face. Jeno's breath hitches at the sight of the other, and the feeling of ease sat in his stomach.

"That was quick! I've been waiting for you." He admits, and lets the other enter.

Jeno walks into the familiar house, and the boy, Jaemin, leads him upstairs. Upon entering the much to familiar room, he sees that the boys balcony doors are open.

"Up to watch some stars?" Jaemin asks softly, and Jeno nods.

They go out onto the balcony, and climb up to the roof where they lay down on the rough padding. Jeno lays beside Jaemin, anxiously looking up at the stars above him and feeling the overwhelming sensation to just cry. However, he doesn't. Staring at the bright burst of energies, he wonders if he would become one as well somebody.

"Hey," Jaemin whispers, glancing over at Jeno. "You ok?"

Jeno stays silent for a moment, his mind filling with so many things to say and yet he says nothing. He suddenly feels a lump in his throat, and he curses himself for being so soft.

"It's ok. It's going to be ok." Jaemin says, and Jeno hears the shuffling beside him.

He feels a sudden embrace wrap around him, and he immediately melts in Jaemins arms. The scent of matured coconut fills his senses, and he leans into the warm sweater of the other boys. He closes his eyes, feeling his eyes sting with urgency.

"It's ok Jeno." Jaemin says in the softest voice to Jenos memory.

Jeno lets go, almost right after hearing Jaemins words, and lets his guard down. Tears run down his cheeks, and only small little sounds make themselves out of his mouth. His sobs weren't noticeable, but his body shook with ache. All he ever wanted was to hear that, was to hear that somebody cared; was that somebody looked into him and saw something he needed.

He let himself cry, and after so long of not doing so, it felt so surreal. He forgot the feeling of barely breathing, and the tightness of his body. The tears down his cheeks were hot, and yet his body was keeping itself from shivering. However, inside the others arms he didn't feel the need to hide. Instead, he sincerely felt embraced by the touch of care.

After a long moment of silence, Jeno stops himself crying but his body still shakes uncontrollably.

"I knew you were hurting you know, right when you started becoming distant again." Jaemin explains suddenly, caressing the others soft locks. "It's getting bad again, isn't it?"

Jeno doesn't say a single thing, too scared to even move in the arms of the other holding him. Not scared of the actual boy, he was scared to break the moment. If it was a dream, he didn't want to wake up: if it was a illusion, he didn't want to sober up. He didn't want it to end.

"I don't understand," Jaemin whispers, "but I want to." He admits.

Jeno stays still, listening to the other go on and feeling the swelling of his heart. Truly, this has to be a dream.

"Whenever your ready, I'll be here to listen. I'm not a therapist, nor do I have experience, but I will try my best to make sure your in content. You don't have to be alone anymore Jeno, you don't have to weigh everything down on yourself anymore." Jaemin tightens his hold, and Jeno lets himself grasp the others clothing.

"That's what I'm here for." Jaemin says in a hushed tone.

"Thank you." Jeno blurts out, his vocals somewhat scratchy.

They lay there in silence, letting the silence become comfortable around them and watching the stars shine above them. The thoughts, actions and emotions won't go away in a day. However, overtime there can be change to the perspective of life.

For life was never meant to be walked alone; tis was to be walked with another.

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If any of my readers are going through something, do not be afraid to go to my messages. They are always open. I won't get there on time, but I will always reply. Please, please check on others. You never know what they are going through. Thank you all so much for your support, I love you all so much. Please be safe and healthy.