There was blood everywhere. On my hands, on the floor, on his skin. The walls had been painted with a dark red and a type of carelessness that could only be found in abstract art. I couldn't stop the tears from flowing when I looked at him. He was my everything and here he was; dead.

I could barely breathe, I could barely focus on anything except the lifeless body lying in front of me and the boy who'd once been my lover. He would no longer smile with me or cry with me; nor would he ever be in pain again. He was dead.

The door opened and I heard five collective gasps as the other boys walked into the room. I could hear Namjoon calling the police and Seokjin calling an ambulance. I heard crying and gasping for breath but I couldn't focus on anything other than his lifeless body in front of me.

'I could've stopped it. I should've stopped it. I just didn't…'

The sirens could be heard less than five minutes later and Hoseok was inspected by paramedics then hauled up onto a stretcher. Their faces were grim when they examined the body in front of them and I knew that they were looking for any signs of life. I knew they wouldn't find any though. I knew it.

I could hear heavy footsteps hauling up the police officers to our apartment floor. They weren't careful or respectful about our living space at all and ran straight into the room with guns pointed and the barrels were pushed against my head.

'On the floor! Now!'

I did as I was told and could see Hoseok's body leave the room. A sob escaped me and the tears came down even harder than before. Everything was blurry. My heart was racing.

Hands grabbed at me and someone pulled one of my arms behind my back, twisted. I screamed in pain and looked at the officer's blurry face. He said nothing but looked at me with his stone cold eyes and I felt absolutely weak in his gaze.

More tears. More pain

The officer who'd pulled my arm behind my back, hoisted me up off the floor and pushed me to make me walk. I resisted against the force and looked back at all the blood in the room. Everything had been either pushed out of the way or blood stained or broken throughout the past twenty minutes and my home no longer looked like a home.

I could see the knife that had been in my hand only five minutes prior and I could see it's blood stained metal. My breathing slowed to the point where I was choking on my tears and I screamed in frustration. The police officer holding me, handcuffed me and and pushed me again.

This time, I didn't resist and was led into the darkness.