Taehyung was once the bright light in every room-the boy who's laughs had the power to light up another's world, who spread positivity and warmth to everyone around him. He was the friend you could count on, the one who never let anything dull his s...
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Taehyung’s POV:
The cemetery was quiet, as it always was. The only sound was the soft rustle of leaves in the chilly breeze and the occasional distant chirp of birds. Taehyung stood there, staring at the gravestone in front of him, clutching a small bouquet of white lilies—his mother’s favorite.
It was her birthday today.
A day that used to be filled with warmth, laughter, and the smell of her cooking. Now it was just cold. Lonely. Painful.
He knelt slowly, placing the flowers at the base of the gravestone. His hands trembled as his fingers brushed over the engraved letters of her name. Tears were already forming in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. Not yet.
“Hi, Mom,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Happy birthday.”
He stayed silent for a moment, staring at the ground as if waiting for her to answer. But of course, she wouldn’t. She never would.
“I don’t even know where to start,” he muttered, his voice trembling as he spoke. “Everything’s so… messed up. I—" His voice cracked, and he buried his face in his hands, the tears now flowing freely.
“I’m so tired, Mom. So fucking tired. I don’t know how much longer I can do this.” His shoulders shook with silent sobs, and he wiped his face with the sleeve of his hoodie.
“I thought I was strong. You always said I was strong, didn’t you? But I’m not. I’m just… I’m just a kid, Mom. I’m eighteen. Eighteen. I’m not supposed to deal with all of this. I’m not supposed to feel this much pain.”
His voice grew louder, more desperate, as if she could hear him better if he screamed.
“They hate me,” he choked out. “Everyone hates me. They look at me like I’m some kind of freak, like I’m disgusting, and I don’t know why! I don’t understand what I did to deserve this!”
He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he tried to steady his breathing. But the memories flooded back—memories of the laughter, the insults, the bruises, and the cruel, hateful words.
“And Jungkook…” Taehyung’s voice cracked again as he whispered the name. “He hates me too, doesn’t he? He doesn’t believe me. After everything we’ve been through, he doesn’t even trust me.”
He shook his head, biting his trembling lip.
“He was my best friend. My everything. And now, he’s just… he’s just another person who thinks I’m worthless.”
Taehyung looked up at the gravestone, his vision blurred with tears. His chest felt like it was caving in, the weight of everything suffocating him.
“I miss you so much,” he sobbed. “You wouldn’t have let this happen, right? If you were here, none of this would’ve happened. You would’ve protected me. You always did. You always told me I was worth something, but… but now? I don’t feel like I am. I feel like I’m nothing.”
He hugged himself, rocking back and forth as he spoke.
“I just want it to stop, Mom. I want all the pain to stop. I can’t take it anymore. The bullying, the humiliation, the way people look at me… It’s too much. I feel like I’m drowning, and no one’s even trying to save me.”
Taehyung tilted his head back, staring at the sky as if searching for some kind of sign. Something to tell him that things would get better. But there was nothing. Just the cold, gray sky above him.
He pressed his hand against the gravestone, his voice barely above a whisper now.
“I think I know what I need to do, Mom. I think… I think it’s the only way to make the pain stop. I’ll finally be at peace, right? I’ll finally be with you.”
He let out a shaky breath, his fingers tracing the letters of her name again.
“Do you think they’ll miss me? Do you think Jungkook will miss me? Or will he just be relieved that I’m gone?” He gave a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Probably the second one.”
Taehyung stood up slowly, wiping his tears away, though they kept falling no matter how hard he tried to stop them. He looked down at the grave one last time, his heart breaking into pieces.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” he whispered. “I tried. I really did. But I can’t do it anymore. I just… I can’t.”
With that, he turned and walked away, his steps slow and heavy as if the weight of his decision was already pulling him down. His mind was made up, but his heart ached with every step he took.
For the first time, he truly felt like there was no way out. No light at the end of the tunnel. Just darkness.
