Lucifer | Woosan

3: "A Party Is All You Need" (San)

San POV:

(T/W: self harm)

September 17, 2020

I wonder why people say that every life is precious.

I wish that were true.

Because mine isn't. My life isn't fucking precious. To me or to anyone. And I don't understand how it could be.

I'm not as good as Aira. I'm not admirable and popular like my mom and dad are. I'm not an active church boy like Hongjoong or a smart, responsible person like Jisoo.

I once heard a song about lives going out like lights, and it said something about not ending your life because it's going to be another light going out.

When I first heard it, I felt touched.

Now I'm here. It's 6 a.m. I'm sitting on the edge of the bathtub while the water's running, having a damn mental breakdown and twirling my blade in my hand, wondering whether to use it on myself or not.

What's so wrong if the light that goes out belongs to a shitty, useless person? Like me for example?

I sigh as I bring the blade to my arm. Fuck it. I knew I was going to return to this anyways, no matter how hard I tried to stop.

Honestly, I don't think I truthfully want to die. That's just the pathetic voice in my head that won't let me breathe. I think the real me wants to live, to breathe, to laugh, to be able to love freely and be loved. I don't want to kill myself. I want to kill what's inside of me.

I watch the scarlet-colored liquid flow from my arms and into the drain rapidly, faster and faster. I wish I knew what it was inside of me that I want to kill though.

I step out of the shower and force myself to look at my reflection in the mirror. I try on my Set Of Fake Expressions that I have been perfecting for some time now. I think I need to keep on the I Don't Give A Fuck face for now. I don't need anyone finding out about how I feel; it's burdensome to carry another person's problems and I don't think anyone would care enough to know.

So I smile brightly into the mirror as I throw my hoodie over my head and pull the sleeves down way over my wrists. I almost look fine. Almost.

Life is so confusing.

*****************

It's another new day. Rather, another new day with the same old things.

After my little epic showdown moment in the bathtub, I had done what I'd every day for the last couple years.

Get dressed in whatever I'll pull out of the closet, put on my earphones, stare at myself in the mirror and regret being born, skip breakfast, pull on my socks and shoes, grab my bag and be out the door before my parents wake up.

Then I get on the bus, go through the usual 10 minute drive and walk to school, music blasting in my ears as I try to avoid walking behind people or making eye contact with them. Eye contact is something I'll never get the hang of.

I come to school about an hour and a half before everyone else does. I'm here even before the teachers and the janitors. To be honest, if someone asked me why, I wouldn't quite know how to answer. The drab, ugly gray of the school walls seems to find ways into the little corners of your mind and stay there, signaling "It's ok. It's safe. You can sit here and talk to yourself and I won't think it's weird."

But when the school day starts, and all the people come in, the gray seems different. It's no longer welcoming in its shabby, gloomy loneliness. No, now it's mocking you, saying "You'll never get out of here. You'll be stuck here. Forever. With all the stories and rumors of you trapped within my walls for the years to come."