The harsh fluorescent light cascaded onto your pallid reflection, the cold water failing to ease the irritation creeping across your skin, the persistent redness under your eyes refusing to dissipate. The once pristine sink now bore a dark stain of blood—thankfully not your own.

The relentless buzz of the cheap bathroom lights was your only accompaniment in this moment. The space, once a battleground of raised voices and heated conflicts, now lay eerily silent, as if time itself had frozen in place. The accusatory mirror seemed to mock you, highlighting your disheveled state—hair in disarray, a stark departure from the composed individual you once were.

How pathetic. You had become the embodiment of your parents' worst fears, a stark contrast to the diligent child they had raised. Substances had morphed into your crutch, an addiction too formidable to overcome, despite your best efforts. It wasn't a lack of knowledge on how to quit, but rather a question of what purpose it would serve when your life was miserable, your job unbearable, and your living space a cheap and rancid mess littered in trash bags and garbage.

"Look at you, you’re a mess." a voice sneered, a familiar yet unwelcome figure looming in the bathroom, a gruesome sight splattered across the tiles. Dohyun's taunting words echoed, his presence lingering despite you having impulsively ended his life just a day earlier. It wasn't part of the plan; his ceaseless insults had pushed you beyond reason, resulting in his body decomposing in the tub, shrouded in cheap trash bags while flies circled.

His spectral shadow seemed to haunt you, a chilling reminder of your actions. Whether a figment of your imagination or his vengeful ghost, you couldn't shake the feeling of his gaze upon you, a phantom presence as you stared into the mirror, his form haunting your reflection as he sat perched against the edge of the tub.

Maybe seeking help to stop harming yourself in this manner would be beneficial, but then again, does it truly matter?