Wet Grass

AN: This chapter until the tenth is from Jungkook's perspective. The eleventh, until the fifteenth, is from Namjoon's perspective again. And then it will be from Jungkook's once again. If the perspective changes, I will let you guys know.

This chapter was edited by jooniekingg.

On with the chapter:

I was bored.

Bored with the sun that continued hitting my eyes every day from the same angle. Bored with having the same conversation with my brother. Bored with the same green smoke that I couldn't function without.

The days I'd get my weed from Namjoon were like my birthday. The first day was heaven and yet I'd descend into hell as days passed by. I'd get more anxious, and more greedy with the amount I was smoking, and with how long I'd hold it in. If it was my last joint, then I would hold it in until I would choke.

I've been smoking for free. Well, I tried giving him money, but he preferred our deal instead. I couldn't say I minded since the money our parents left for my brother and me was mostly used for utilities, necessities, and food. What I got was barely enough for sweets, the few products I used and I'd rarely buy some new clothes.

My brother knew something was up, but he didn't confront me. As long as I was panic attack-free and I wasn't vomiting on his carpet, he left me be. Strangely enough, I was happy to be alone. Lonely? Sometimes.

But lately, my dealer has been following me.

He hardly blinked when I was around. I was feeling as if I was prey to a dangerous animal.

He frightened me sometimes, but I'd feel warm every time we spoke about normal stuff and my body would react to his every touch.

I was craving his touch as much as I wanted him to never come near me again.

I would avoid thinking about him after I'd get so high that I'd have to pay attention just to walk straight. I knew that my plan would weaken just along with my stash. And getting clean was just out of question.

The anxiety and panic attacks I'd get just by leaving the house or waking up were worse than any side effects. Except that the pills my psychiatrist used to give me before I overdid them, made me suicidal.

After smoking, I could still feel. But the pills made me feel nothing. No joy or pain, and it was the closest I felt to being a living corpse. Not being able to laugh or cry scared the living soul out of me.

The illegality of it bothered me. However, as long as there was any effect at all, as long as I had one second of relief, I would deny anything else and keep going.

But getting involved with any drug dealer was not a good idea, and I knew it. Even if I thought he was a good guy, the chance of getting caught went from ten percent to eighty every time I was around him. My paranoia skyrocketed when we were together in the middle of the day and went down as the night rolled around.

His eyes burned the back of my head when we were in class. I felt his breath on my neck as I stood on the rooftop even when he wasn't there. The only place I had in school had been literally stained because of him. I rubbed the wall clean. There was no evidence left from our last meeting. But I couldn't stop reliving the whole thing every time I'd look at it. I couldn't forgive myself for acting the way I did.

I was not a woman. Yet I couldn't as much as push him two centimeters aside.

I thought about getting physically fit or eating healthier merely so I could have little control over the way I was being treated.

Who am I kidding?

I could hardly stand for over ten minutes without considering sitting down to eat or falling asleep. And when I will inevitably have to stay sober, I will have to use all my time to study what I didn't for the rest of the year, and also, I will be especially sick and anxious. The idea itself leaped inside my mind every time he held me in any way, although later I attempted to do one single push up and I ended up falling asleep in the same spot.

It's been a week since I agreed to be in a questionable relationship with him. Even if I was scared to think about what was going on in his head. Despite my paranoia, he was yet to give me a single phone call or approach me.

On Friday, I went to the lake and fell asleep there since the sun was warm and yet not so close that it burned my skin. Plus, I didn't have to worry about teachers locking me up on the rooftop.

I hated how some part of me expected him to just show up suddenly.

At first, I thought he was throwing caution to the wind, and then I considered he might wait for me to come to him. However, when the day of the club arrived, and he had missed both class and the club in their entirety, I realized something must've happened that had nothing to do with me.

One more week has passed with no sign. And I'd lie if I would've told myself that I wasn't worried, but the one thing that was bothering me was that I was running out of green and his phone has been turned off for a long time now. The only way to get my fix was to go to his house.

Like a retard bunny who'd jump into the lion's den.

That is exactly where I was headed the moment that I opened the plastic bag and found nothing inside. Just like it has been the last time I checked.

I thought he might come to school this Monday and that I should wait for him to return. He didn't want anyone calling him if he turned off his phone, but my heart started racing and my supply of air was feeling thinner.

I wasn't thinking when I started banging on his door at 9 PM.

I wasn't thinking when I continued to do so, even when no one answered. Not even his grandmother. The house was dead silent.

What the heck?

I've called him every hour and yet his phone remained turned off.

Perhaps, he's lost his phone?

I paced for hours inside my room until I got tired enough to fall asleep.

I was shivering and nauseous. I barely slept four hours and woke up with anxiety ripping me to shreds.

I paced around for a few more hours, listening to music, calling a turned-off phone, moreover making up scenarios in my mind. I collapsed on my bed while clenching my teeth.

It's almost Sunday. I can wait a bit more. I need to be patient…

I was heaving for air as I got up to get some water. I was now starving and yet repulsed by the sight of food at the same time.

My hands started shaking.

Why am I shaking so soon? That was my only thought as I grabbed a thick coat and walked out, nearly running.

By the time I arrived in front of his house, I was hyperventilating.

"Please! If you're home, please, answer! I need… Please… I know I sound nuts, but I am scared, and…"

I started bawling my eyes out and shivering in front of his door.

I was ashamed of myself, but I wanted relief more than I wanted to keep the little pride I had left.

I continued to beg and knock on the door. Regardless, after one hour of crying and freezing, no one responded.

I've examined every window and concluded that no one was home after checking every room twice. Hence, I did what I could do now that panic was clutching every vein and intern organ I had.

Suddenly, I allowed my legs to run at full speed. I had no one to go to besides my brother. The photograph my brain created was horrendous. The judgemental eyes of his girlfriend as she's staring at me while I'm covered in a cold sweat, trembling, and begging for help has stopped me in my tracks.

He'd only take me to the hospital to get a pill that'll help me sleep for seven hours, and then it will just start over. No, the pill will feel dreadful too…

No matter what brand or color. All I ever got was a pill that caused walls to grow tall, encompassing me like a shield. Protecting me from any emotion that any human has ever felt. The wind itself would feel foreign. The only wish I ever had while on those pills was death and maybe to pull at my skin until I'd be able to take it off like a piece of clothing.

I contemplated it when the thought: I have no one to help me; emerged inside my psyche and my body replied. Electricity ignited every vein that I had as my lungs were drowning. But the likelihood of him figuring out that I was having withdrawals was not worth it.

Therefore, I ran until my knees felt like they would crumble. I'd rest for a few minutes to catch my breath and then I'd start running again.

I had no destination. I was running from the adrenaline that was inside my body and, of course, it couldn't work. The only way I could defeat my body would be if my soul would escape its meat prison as a ghost. Still, it was more satisfying than lying still and not being able to distract my mind.

I've tried calling him repeatedly.

"Hi Namjoon, I am genuinely concerned you might not be fine. I truly am. But please help me calm down first. I'd really love to breathe normally for one second. Thanks."

I knew that talking to the home screen of my phone out loud in the middle of the street couldn't look good. The fact that it was 4 AM helped immensely. No one was around to point any fingers.

Pretty soon, I was lost between buildings that I'd never seen before. I thought I could use the GPS on the phone to get back, except as I kept calling Namjoon, the battery was reaching dangerously low numbers.

Sweat was oozing from my temples, and every time the wind touched my skin. But when I finally collapsed on some grass and looked up at the sky… I felt a smile stretch the corners of my lips without my permission.

I realized why later.

I am more exhausted than I am anxious.

So, I shut my eyes. Resisted the urge to scream and fell unconscious on someone's lawn.

"Morning boy. You'll catch a cold."

What I saw next was the weak sun attempting to stab through the grey clouds with its rays, and an old lady poking me with her walking stick.

"I am sorry." Was my prompt response while I got up too fast and began walking away.

"Are you hurt? Do you need some help?"

I glanced at my phone, and its three percent battery mocked me silently.

"Yeah. What street is this?"

"It's Sanghwa-ro 51."

"Thanks."

"Do you need a lift, young man?" An old man approached us and then took the bag from the old woman's hands.

"No, yes, I …"

The heat of the sun hit me abruptly. Their proximity became too real, and my heart started threatening to erupt inside my chest.

I need to get away from these people. I can't stand the way they're looking at me…

"I live nearby. I will just use my GPS. Thank you and I am sorry for sleeping on your property."

They kept glancing my way even after I was technically on public land.

Therefore, I pulled out my phone and did something stupid.

I called Namjoon. And after that, I examined my GPS.

It was 9 AM, Sunday, and I was 40 minutes of walking distance away from home.

I looked at the map and all of its streets. Then I saw a child pointing at my clothes, so I also glanced down at what used to be a white shirt.

The grass… Great.

My phone sent me a pop-up to announce that I had only two percent of the battery left.

So, I did the only logical thing that I could think of while I felt like I was about to throw up.

I called my brother.

"Hi. I know it's early and sudden. But my phone will die in about two minutes. So listen, please, can you please come to pick me up? I am on Sanghwa-ro 51. It's a street with a lot of houses, like rich people's houses. I will explain later. Please help me…"

"Jungkook?"

And that was all I heard him say. My cheap phone went to its happy place in the 'no battery purgatory' and I remained standing in the sun, although the air was crisp.

It didn't warm me up. It intensified the headache, however.

I knew I should've at least attempted to look normal and stand in the shade of a tree, yet as the hunger increased and the adrenaline reached full authority, I squatted down, hugged my knees, and hid my face from the rest of the world.

All I could do was hope that my brother would come and that the adrenaline will subside. Or perhaps, the hunger would get so strong that it would distract my nervous system. It kind of did since I became so nauseous that I was glad that I couldn't smell or see any food.

Yet my body felt frail. The sounds, the sun's rays, the wind, and even the shade. Just existing was causing me pain.

I knew this feeling. I've been living my life in a certain way just to avoid this very sentiment.

Desperate did not even touch the tip of the iceberg. It was more like a fish would suddenly get dragged out of the water and straight into lava. As if my body was not meant to survive on planet earth.

I've been told I am human my whole life but sometimes, I questioned if everyone knew I wasn't and they just lied to themselves and subsequently, to me out of fear of the unknown.

If I had an emotional body, then it was frightened of living on this planet. While my physical body overreacted to anything as if it was poisoned. And perhaps it was.

The probability of humans coming remotely closer sent chills down my spine. Moreover moving or talking seemed like climbing a mountain.

I shut my eyes and began rocking back and forth to calm myself down.

It didn't work, so I started crying.

Anyone, please help me.

That was what I was thinking before someone touched my shoulder.

My brother was out of breath and sweaty as he stared at me with wide eyes.

"What the hell happened?"

"Please make it stop." That was all I could say, as I assumed the same position I had previously.

He simply picked me up and laid me inside his car. We were at the hospital we always went to in less than thirty minutes.

It all happened in a daze. I couldn't focus on anything or anyone. I could barely hear a thing.

All I did was rock back and forth and trust in my body that it won't die. Confident that dying must feel like I was feeling. Well, without the sweet release.

Before the psychiatrist instructed me to go in, I checked my phone one last time. As if, although both our phones were dead, Namjoon would still call and tell me to come and pick up my stuff. And like the great actor that I am not, I would just tell everyone that I'm suddenly feeling better now and then, I'd walk out with no valid explanation.

"Jeon Jungkook, how are you feeling today?"

I've looked up at the neat hair, the wrinkleless face, and the perfectly ironed pristine white shirt. The objects that decorated her desk were all placed symmetrically. The picture of a happy family on the wall and the false concern that was plastered on her face were in a funny harmony.

Suddenly, I wanted to hit a human being. So I told myself that it wasn't her fault that she didn't understand what I was going through.

Hell, I also didn't understand a thing myself.

However, the fact that human society selected her to be in charge of people like me made me feel even more cynical.

Oh, it must be so nice to be you.

"It's been a while since we've seen each other. Now, tell me how you are feeling."

Having coping mechanisms that society deems acceptable. Isn't that nice?

"This is a safe place. You know that."

I wonder if you feel you are a better human being just because you can have a conversation without losing your mind.

"You know I can just give you a pill but understanding the cause is more important than stopping it."

Oh, shut up. Pills are all you know. Pills are what you think solves it all, don't you? If there's no visible reaction for you? Aren't I cured?

"I am here for you."

You are anywhere but here. I bet you can't wait for me to complain about literally anything so you can say: I understand. And then give me a pill that will just wreck my nervous system to the core…

"Jungkook?"

"Yes."

"What happened?"

My drug dealer has disappeared. I thought.

"I don't know. I just woke up like this." I said.

"Did you have another nightmare?"

Yeah. I woke up from the warm, peaceful void only to find out that I am a bag of meat and bones on a spinning rock in freaking space and yet all I'm doing is bringing me one step closer to death!

"Yes. Something was chasing me."

"Did that something remind you of anything?"

Death, uncertainty, anxiety, panic, dread, loneliness, or you? Pick one.

"I couldn't see. It was dark, and it was so cold…"

"Do you remember where you were… or… I am sorry but if you'll concentrate on a certain memory, I am sure that your shaking will subside."

If I could, I would. Don't you think? But then again, I don't have a fancy paper on the wall that's telling me I am normal, even if my empathy has blown its brains out long ago.

"I'm trying, but it's not working."

"Let's try inducing it. Close your eyes and imagine that you're in a peaceful, worry-free, and completely safe place."

Oh, yes. I am dancing on your grave while smoking a joint.

"Now tell me, what do you see?"

"A sunny beach."

"Good. Breathe in and out, slowly."

Do you honestly think I didn't try any of this shit? That the first time I felt like this was yesterday? I am not lacking common sense, woman! No… I shouldn't get angry. That might show on my face and she might tell...

"Now imagine that every worry you have is being swept away by the waves."

I need those pills. Please, you, psychopathic lady, would you please shut up and prescribe me just one pill? I really want to make this panic stop for one goddamn second!

"Do you feel better?"

I open my eyes and looked at her with what I hoped was a smile.

"Honestly?"

"Of course, there's no point if you aren't honest with me, Jungkook."

Not even one bit.

"There are fewer dark thoughts, but the adrenaline is still there… I wish I could make it stop…"

"I am sure you do." She sighed and wrote something down.

You mother fuc…!

"So, do you remember where you were?"

"When?"

"In your nightmare."

"Oh, yeah." Her stare went from my shaking legs to the paper in front of her. "In a forest. A dark, dark forest."

"Jungkook, I will prescribe you some pills. Just three for now and in case you still feel bad after you'll wake up, you need to make another appointment. You know I would give you more, but you have a history of abusing pills, so…"

So, we, as a business that we all, we'll pretend we care about you as an individual, so no one arrests us in case you kill yourself with the medicine that we've prescribed. So, I can only give you so much, although I don't really care what happens to you. You understand, right?

"Don't be embarrassed to come back if you still feel like this soon. You can come back here and I will prescribe you some more. I'm also writing the same number as last time. Linda Freeman is an astonishing therapist and she has helped so many patients live normal, fulfilling lives with their… various conditions."

I'm sure she is the real Jesus of therapy out of all the useless ones.

I said in my mind while trying not to show an obvious frown.

"And I want you to do this exercise before you go to sleep."

More homework. Joy.

"Get comfortable, close your eyes and go back to the forest from your nightmare, and confront the one who's chasing you. Find out who it is and what your dream wants to tell you. It might help." She said, smiling as she handed me the prescription.

If I never had to wake up again, then sure. But you're right, it will help... in the dream world!

"Yes, I will," I muttered while I took it and got up immediately. "Thank you for your time."

"There's nothing to be thankful for. I am here to help. My door is always open to you."

Of course, it is. As long as my parents continue to pay. If not why would you care if I live in agony or die from desperation?

My brother stood up the second he spotted me and walked close to me as we headed for the nearest pharmacy.

"What did she say?"

"The usual." That was all I said before I went in and handed the prescription to the pharmacist.

She looked up, examined my face, and then started typing.

Type faster!

She went through a door and didn't come back for a few minutes.

"Did she say you should do therapy?"

"Yup." I started pacing and the man behind us glanced at me, perplexed.

Is she making them now? Hurry up!

"Then why don't you try it?"

"I tried it. Five times. Remember?"

"I am sorry to keep you waiting, but we're out."

I clutched the paper with more force than I should've and walked out without saying a word.

"Sorry to bother you, but is there another pharmacy around here?" I asked the first person I saw the instant I was outside.

"Yes, there is one just ten minutes from here. Walk straight until you'll see the cross sign on the left."

"Thank you."

"Jungkook, did you ever consider trying again?"

"No."

We walked in silence for a while.

The wind felt like needles penetrating through my skin. The good part about going to that woman was that I got so angry every time I saw her that my fear of people mutated into a beautiful, blind rage. I used it to fuel my every step and I could start conversations with strangers like it was nothing.

Why do I feel faster than everyone else?

"You don't know if she isn't different. If you don't try multiple people…"

"You know they're all the same. And also, I don't trust any goody two shoes with my stuff."

"Of course, you've killed ten people and dumped them in a lake only in the past month. What was I thinking?"

"What?"

"You think you are the only one having these ...powerful feelings, but you are not! She probably had the worst patients."

"Firstly, if I had killed ten people and confessed it to her, she'd legally have to hand me over to a cop. Secondly, I know I am not that special. I just don't trust her or most people..."

"If you would find someone who's right and who fits the type of person that you are..."

"I don't want to find anyone. Also, you know that I've already told them the story of my life before and they didn't know how to help at all. I can drink water, exercise, and think positive thoughts all day long and still feel like this when I just want to feel…"

The pharmacy made my chest feel lighter, and it was as if I could inhale just a little bit slower than I did a second ago.

"Feel what? Jungkook?"

Anything but this.

I ignored him, went in, handed the paper, and waited, again.

He grabbed my arm from behind and then talked loud and clear:

"Can you stop for a second and pay attention to me when I am talking to you?!"

"Can you please understand that even if I am walking and talking, I still feel like every bit of my body wants to rip itself apart?!" I screamed. But a full-blown scream wasn't necessary to make him feel disrespected and rejected.

"That'll be 12 dollars. This prescription is non-refillable."

"I know." I took the tiny bag as my brother paid.

He walked out and stood by the door without looking at me.

I asked for a glass of water and swallowed a pill the second I got it.

We walked back to the car in utter silence.

I knew he was probably mad and worried at the same time. And I felt guilty for reacting the way I did. I knew that he only wanted to help. However, after we got in the car and at least five minutes have passed, I ceased to feel any guilt.

Soon, I forgot what had just happened.

I didn't feel too hungry or nauseated anymore. No cold, no desperation, and no panic was tugging at my soul. I was just an empty shell of a body in a car with my brother, who was driving me home.

If a car would've smashed into ours right now, I wouldn't have flinched for a second.

Is this what it is like to be normal? Nah. It can't be.

I stared at my phone with no thoughts or emotions running through me for a few minutes before my brother asked:

"I have a charger. Do you want to plug it in?"

"No."

It started raining.

The clouds have won.

By the time we were near our building, convinced that he was upset with me. Us not having to talk was the bonus that came with it, and I wanted it to stay that way, at least for a while.

We had no umbrella, so we just ran towards the entrance, but right after we went through the gate's door, a mysterious force turned me around. I gasped.

He was embracing me.

Namjoon was embracing me in the rain.

Namjoon was embracing me in front of my apartment building.

Namjoon was embracing me in front of my brother.

Something inside me moved. There was an emotion that wanted to bubble up to the surface of my consciousness, except it couldn't. It remained stuck in an emotionless void.

I didn't embrace him back, nor did it even pass through my brain that I should.

He let me go and his face reflected on my irises after weeks.

"Sorry." That was all he had whispered before he turned around and left.

I didn't feel like moving as I stared at his back, getting smaller and smaller until it disappeared behind the gate.

I just stood there. Unable to feel relieved or surprised.

A voice in the back of my mind told me I should have felt something, but I couldn't.

I was inside the walls, and nothing got through them.

Inside the walls, it was cold as I was being rained on.

But it didn't matter.

Nothing did.