[...]

And this time he did not try anymore. He was done.

The grip around the paper loosened, a sigh of defeat left his lips, his eyes closing as he let this familiar numbness spread across his body and mind, swallowing his thoughts before nipping them in the bud. Suddenly it seemed as simple as blowing out the little flame flickering for dear life on a wick on top of a candle.

His mind went cold and dark, the wrong kind of peacefulness overtaking. But he welcomed it with open arms. Peace did not last long either way as they appeared, once again taking delight in his misery.

Tragic, a chuckle erupted in his head making him wince slightly. He missed the cold numbness already. But also so... amusing

"Leave me alone" his voice was raspy from crying and the tiredness, as if he had not used it for at least a whole day.

But my dear Yoongi, that would be too simple, wouldn't it? There was nothing humane about the voices, they were ugly and terrifying. They scared him. They made him feel weak and so small.

Good. And they could hear his thoughts. That was what terrified him the most. It was getting harder to resist. He felt them eating away on any joy and hope he had left in his life, instead leaving him like this.

Oh, you are no fun It sent chills down his spine. But the laughter in his head, echoing from one side to the other and back, made him realize something horrible: he had started to begrudge the voices. He envied them for being able to laugh when he sat here crying in pain and sorrow. The laughter that usually scared him, suddenly he envied it.

He did not even remember when the voices appeared for the first time in his head. The only thing he remembered was the pain. Even less he knew where the voices came from.

Oh you dumb little human He shook his head, a sad attempt to shake them off or even just stop them for a few seconds. But he should know by now, that they would never leave him again. It was not that simple.

Then it happened again. The voice multiplied until a whole choir sang in his head, taking away the last piece of silence left. "Stop" Yoongi's own voice broke, too weak against the turmoil happening inside of himself. His chest started to rise faster and faster, his breaths turning short and hectic. The hair on his skin stood up like it usually would when it was cold, sending yet another chill down his spine. He felt like he was under water. Like he could not breath. Too small, his studio seemed too small all of a sudden. The walls closing in.

He stood up, almost knocking his chair over. He did not care though. So, you're finally ready, huh? "Shut up!" he grabbed his hair, tugging on it. "Just SHUT THE FUCK UP!!" If he had pulled
stronger on them, he would have ripped his own hair out. For a moment it was silent.

But where would be the fun in that? A loud scream ripped out of him. For the first time in a long while Min Yoongi screamed. His body started to shake. His throat hurt and his head was pounding. Everything was too much. He did not want to stop. But he had to, afraid someone might hear him, even though the walls were soundproof. Right now though, he did not seem to remember that fact.

The silence in the small room was almost as frightening as the storm in his head. The dried tears on his cheeks, the shaking hands and the loud breath were the only hint to what had happened only a few seconds ago. The breathing he so desperately tried to take control over again. But he was never good enough at controlling things, even as much as his own life. He lost control over it a long time ago. They had taken over of what was left of it.

Now my dear Sugarrr, like a purr, they had always loved to tease him for everything he was and had become. Let's paint, shall we~ I want to see them both in red~ A new tear slipped down his already glossy cheeks. He would have given everything for it all to end.

Everything? This time it sounded of nothing more than a whisper. Almost instinctively he flinched to a side, squeezing his eyes shut, as if he could make the – his – monsters disappear by merely shutting his eyes. His problem was that they were in his head. So, relaxing his muscles yet again, he spoke with an unusual firm tone: "Everything."

Then run~ Yoongi bolted out the door almost as soon as they stopped, and he stopped thinking. Out the door, into the corridor, almost crashing into the wall ahead of him. He was desperate now. Different doors flew past him as he hurried down the hallway. Not once did he falter, finally having a goal in his mind. Finally, his life had some purpose again. No outsider would have guessed that the male was trying to outrun himself – run away from his own mind and what it held within.

.

.

Please save me, please save me

Please let me out, please let me out

Hurry and get me out of here

.

.

The time he broke out from his panicked trance, he found himself face to face with his own self watching him right from where he stood, on the other side of the mirror.

So, we finally meet.

Taking a step back Yoongis eyes widened, but much to his surprise the young man in the mirror looking exactly like him did not follow his actions.

Oh no, my dumb little human, you're in fact not hallucinating the grin on their face almost resulted in Yoongi dashing out of the small bathroom once more. I wouldn't do that though if I were you.

His thoughts were not his own anymore.

"Then-" Yoongi took a deep breath before he continued, the fear in his eyes as clear as the water fresh out of a spring. "Then.. who are you?" A chuckle, laughter appearing in the background, like the applause in the old moves they would only show late at night on the TV these days.

I'm you-

"No" he flinched back.

I'm me-

The grin on his lips turned into something evil. Haunting even.

I'm everything you want to be-

He bolted out once again. The fear of seeing himself – that monster – right in front of him with his own eyes, was everything it took to set him off once more. So he went to the stairs, upwards, right towards the rooftop.

.

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Travelling to memories

Come on, let's erase them one by one, yes

.

.

The wind was cold on his face as the male faced the colorful nightlights of Korea's biggest city, Seoul. His feat stood right at the edge of the roof, leaving him only one small step away from falling into the abyss. It was a beautiful sight to see, the lights almost masking the dark that awaited him about 100 meters beneath his feet.

He did not know if it was the cold or the remaining panic and the fear that made him tremble. Trying not to look down, he kept his eyes focused on the town, only averting his eyes to take short glances towards the horizon.

And now what, Yoongi? He stumbled a bit, the voice catching him off guard as he was immersed in the beautiful view right at his feet. Now what? Will you be brave enough-? Brave? When has it been the last time he had been brave in his life? He shut his eyes, many images flooding his thought, some of he wanted to forget a long time ago.

.

.

The sound of mom's heart tickin' away in my ears

My accident that I couldn't even mention

The call I got during my work about father's liver cancer

.

.

But even with eyes shut tight, it was of no use. Seeing without wanting to see. It was quite the trouble for the young male. These pictures, one paining him more than the other. It had worked out too well, him pushing everything far back into the darkest corner of his mind. Until now, right this moment, right this second. Forced to remember, what he thought was long forgotten.

He remembered the pain, a lot of it. He remembered the fear deeply anchored in his bones – afraid of what the close future might hold for him, moreover his family. Whenever a doctor or even just a nurse would enter the awfully white room, they had put his mother, at times even his father, in. He hated those with all his mind. The red was always too bright in these rooms. Always to noticeable and easily distinguishable. Oh, how much he hated the color red.

All it reminded him of was the feeling of pain and sorrow. The voices knew that which is why they loved to see it. On his arms, on his tights, in his eyes whenever he had cried, once more closer to a mental breakdown. He did not even know if they actually liked the color itself or just the reaction it causes within himself and the kinds of negative feeling it inflicted within him.

We don't think that's the important question right now Yoongi It was most likely the first time that they did not call him something stupid. Then what is, Yoongi thought. He looked downwards, right over the tip of his toes. Tempting, isn't it? He didn't even notice his head shaking in a nod. It's not like anyone would miss you His vision became blurry again as he thought about his members, his family.
They all had their own struggles, he knew that. Yoongi was always the observant one, seeing more than what caught the eye. It was him, who saw Jimin's hands shake, whenever food was placed in front of him. It was him who saw the changes in Taehyung's personality first, after he got so much hate for merely being himself. "I should have told him how much I love his personality and uniqueness more often." -

Like he'd care-

It was Yoongi who went to their manager and the CEO after he saw Namjoon struggle with his tasks as not only a member of the group, but also a leader and a songwriter. It was him who sat in the corner of the practice room whenever Hoseok would stay extra time because he was not satisfied with his own performance, even though everybody knew he was the most amazing dancer out of all of them. Yoongi greatly admired him for his art. But he was afraid - afraid that Hoseok would someday be found there lying motionless on the floor – afraid that his love for dance would slowly turn into a necessity, only a part of work he had to do. So Yoongi stayed.

He stayed whenever Jungkook needed to get away, when he just needed a big brother who would buy him lamp skewers and forget life for a short period of time. Lastly Yoongi stayed when Seokjin needed someone. Anyone, really. As the oldest he always felt as if he was not allowed to ask for help. So Yoongi practically forced him outside to get a drink with him and talk. And then he would listen to him until the sun would rise again the next morning.

And yet only you seem to see them-

"That's not true!", Yoongi stated.

Is it not? Wasn't it your lies who got you to this point? Yoongi's breath hitched, the pain of realization hitting him instantly. Regret- "They have nothing to do with this", the male tried to argue with his own mind. It turned out to be pointless though. But that was to be expected. He was powerless against it, the destructive thoughts.

So, let me ask you this- Yoongi braced himself for anything that was about to come. Where is your Yoongi?

Do you see yourself? Their weapon was honesty. Yoongi would have liked it more if the voices screamed at him.

A tear slipped down his still wet cheeks as he thought back to the mirror hanging on the wall in the small bathroom. He remembered the terrifying image he had to endure.

It was the young boy. It was himself. Well, a younger self. But himself nonetheless. The boy who had worked part-time jobs, after training several hours together with the others, after getting yelled at for not improving his dancing skills as fast as the others would. He remembered his shoulder, a faith pain surging through it – a pain he remembered all too well – the accident, he was not able to talk about. He did not dare to, not even to his members. Not until their careers were save and sound. He had risked everything, just to full fill said boy's dreams.

All because of a small sliver of hope.

That was what got Yoongi dashing out of the room before: the hope. Hidden deep down, behind the teasing glint in its eyes, but recognizable nonetheless. It had terrified him to the very core.

It was simply not possible that the image in the mirror was himself. He had lost every form of hope a long time ago. There could not be anything left of it anywhere inside of him.

Then what is left for you to live for? If not hope or love, what do you have left?

"Nothing." He looked nowhere in particular, the city and the lights turning into a big blur of black, red, and smaller colorful specks.

That's right, little boy. So do yourself a favor and put an end to your misery.

If the voices would have a face, Yoongi knew they would be smiling right now, laughing even. He tilted his head downwards. Vision clearing again. He could not even make out the ground, it was too dark. "And Namjoon, Seokjin, Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook?"

What about them? They will be just fine. Just like during all those times you've started to isolate yourself from them- maybe they won't even notice you being gone?

Hearing that hurt Yoongi more that anything. Would they even notice? Would they miss him? Mourn him? He shuffled closer to the abyss, his toes leaving the hard surface of the roof. He had started to cry again.

I cannot push you down myself, you must do the step on your own! Out of your own will!

His lips formed a painful smile as he closed his eyes once more, thinking back to all the precious memories he shared with his family, by blood or not. He thought of their smiles, the moments they had laughed together – before his mind started to turn itself against him.

He was going to miss them.

.

.

Then unexpectedly , a sound pierced through the air. At first he was not even able to map the noise. It was his phone. He felt it vibrating in his back pocket.

He slowly took it out of his pocket. The caller read Jk.

Backing away one step from the edge, Yoongi did not think twice before picking up.

.

.

.

He needed a new notebook.

[...]