Immortality, jonglo drabble
Empty.
He’s looking at all these strange faces, his friends? He doesn’t know.
Not that it matters, they’ll be gone in what feels like the blink of an eye.
All he knows these days is that everything changes scarily fast. Nothing is certain.
The longer you live, the faster time seems to flow. For a child of ten, five years is half his life. For someone of fifty, it’s only a tenth.
Jongup stopped counting around fourteen-thousand. There’s no point in counting, it makes no difference. Doesn’t change the way he feels, the way he doesn’t feel. Not anymore.
Sometimes people say he should use his ‘gift’ for the greater good. Become a hero, change the world.
They don’t understand he can’t. Jongup is just Jongup. When he was twenty-six he couldn’t stop his friend from dying, so now that he’s over two-thousand years old why should he be able to save someone else?
Alone.
He still thinks about him. Junhong. The name seems so foreign now, a little more out of reach each day, week, year, decade. His face faded a long time ago, but the feelings didn’t.
Jongup still remembers the fluttering of his heart and the bubbling in his stomach and the softness of the boy’s skin.
Even if he feels empty now, save for the dull ache in his chest, he remembers.
How could he not? They spent so much time together. The same time that now passes in seconds, on and on.
It was only a moment, a flash. Faster than the weeks flying past now, and at the same time strong enough to leave marks that lasts centuries. A car and a moment of inattentiveness; that was all it took.
Junhong was gone forever, and Jongup was left alone, forever.
Insane.
Maybe the only way out of this ongoing cycle of endless pain, was to end it himself. He had thought about it, more than once,
but somehow it always seemed too.. extreme. Junhong had died before his eyes, after all.
But even Jongup has to have had enough once, right?
One, two, three whole centuries are a long time. Constant changing, anxiety and social isolation will eventually make everyone go mad.
It just took Jongup a little while longer.
Exhaustion. Numbness. Liquid red.
Will you recognize me if we meet again?
He’s looking at all these strange faces, his friends? He doesn’t know.
Not that it matters, they’ll be gone in what feels like the blink of an eye.
All he knows these days is that everything changes scarily fast. Nothing is certain.
The longer you live, the faster time seems to flow. For a child of ten, five years is half his life. For someone of fifty, it’s only a tenth.
Jongup stopped counting around fourteen-thousand. There’s no point in counting, it makes no difference. Doesn’t change the way he feels, the way he doesn’t feel. Not anymore.
Sometimes people say he should use his ‘gift’ for the greater good. Become a hero, change the world.
They don’t understand he can’t. Jongup is just Jongup. When he was twenty-six he couldn’t stop his friend from dying, so now that he’s over two-thousand years old why should he be able to save someone else?
Alone.
He still thinks about him. Junhong. The name seems so foreign now, a little more out of reach each day, week, year, decade. His face faded a long time ago, but the feelings didn’t.
Jongup still remembers the fluttering of his heart and the bubbling in his stomach and the softness of the boy’s skin.
Even if he feels empty now, save for the dull ache in his chest, he remembers.
How could he not? They spent so much time together. The same time that now passes in seconds, on and on.
It was only a moment, a flash. Faster than the weeks flying past now, and at the same time strong enough to leave marks that lasts centuries. A car and a moment of inattentiveness; that was all it took.
Junhong was gone forever, and Jongup was left alone, forever.
Insane.
Maybe the only way out of this ongoing cycle of endless pain, was to end it himself. He had thought about it, more than once,
but somehow it always seemed too.. extreme. Junhong had died before his eyes, after all.
But even Jongup has to have had enough once, right?
One, two, three whole centuries are a long time. Constant changing, anxiety and social isolation will eventually make everyone go mad.
It just took Jongup a little while longer.
Exhaustion. Numbness. Liquid red.
Will you recognize me if we meet again?