#and honestly that's whatever but if you could stop projecting that same contempt on everyone for one minute. like i'm just trying to exist.

[icedille]

suicide plans postponed. i'm going to murder people actually

[ddaenghoney]

SERIES: HALLOWEEN BETWEEN MIDNIGHTS

Chapter 30

On October 1st, you attend a Halloween party in an abandoned house rented by some friends. As scary as the idea of cult owners is, nothing could have prepared you and BTS(regular people) for the mayhem and terror that follows until October 31st.

This is an INTERACTIVE fic. At the end of each part, readers will be able to vote to decide what happens next. Analyze everything(except the time) carefully. Choices decide romance, friendship, and deaths; and yes, ANYONE can die.

In other words, please read at your own risk; anything goes in this story.

Start here | Previous part 

“Can you do me a favor?” Jeongguk’s eyes found yours as you asked in barely a whisper. His brows dipped in confusion, glancing to Taehyung at the counter ordering a coffee. When he found you again, your hands were pressed in front of your face. The timid smile was somewhat mischievous.

Within a matter of two hours Jeongguk looked at the begrudgingly familiar trees swaying around the house he had hoped to never cross in front of again. “Is it really necessary to see if the book is still there?”

You tested the doors, finding it stiff behind the caution tape. Shrugging your shoulders, you turned back to where Jeongguk stood at the base of the little stairway up onto the wooden porch. The leaves surrounding his ankles colored the scenery as beautiful as fall should be, despite being on a property devoid of pleasantness.

“I just want to make sure it’s done, Guk.” He shoved his hands deeper into the large coat pockets,

“Yoongi told you he wouldn’t go, huh?”

“I didn’t ask.” You frowned, pausing as your hands fell to your sides stiffly. “I didn’t want to make him come back here after what happened to Jimin-” “What about what happened to all of us?” His head cocked, trying to meet his gaze to yours as you avoided it in favor of the ground. He sighed when you didn’t reply, turning his shoulder. “Let’s try the cellar then.”

The police hadn’t done much away from the main structure of the property, leaving the cellar gate rather easy to shove open. You both avoided speech as you went through the halls, your eyes stayed fixated on following Jeongguk’s boots. You opened your mouth to speak, but closed it before you managed to. As Jeongguk dipped around the corner of the first hall, you paused, catching the door to the room you and Yoongi were locked into. The room where Jimin’s body disappeared from without a trace.

“Guk,” He turned back, already ahead by five or so steps. “Let’s,” Your hand reached for the brass handle as you spoke, ignoring the twitch in your fingertips, “Try here first-”

“No-” Jeongguk’s hand covered yours as you gripped to open the door, tugging the door against its frame to keep it shut. “Y/N, that room-”

“It’s where you got the book from-”

“We left it in the other own though.” He countered, wedging your grip away to confine it within his own, nervous palm. When you found his eyes, your lips cast down at the worry. “It won’t be there.” A moment of consideration passed before you spoke, resigned,

“The cops didn’t find the book either.”

Jeongguk would rather blame the police’s plain stupidity on everything than consider that this wasn’t over. He recalled Taehyung’s insomnia, and the hysteria when he would wake up and forget who Jeongguk was. When Taehyung rashly spoke to them with contempt uncharacteristic and avoided contact for the duration of October. Jeongguk thought of your irritability with your shoulder, and the rubbing motion you adapted against the skin even though you hadn’t complained about it for weeks now. He remembered the pure fear in your eyes like you were uncertain about who you were-- where you had been in unaccounted time periods.

Jeongguk thought about how his ridiculous idea for a party at an abandoned house was the source of the problems his best friends had to deal with-- at the loss of one who he had been close to for years. He thought about the evening a few days earlier where you all ended up passed out in his and Taehyung’s dorm room, having completed a grueling project. And it felt normal again.

Jeongguk stopped feeling worried about everything, until now. Until he was brought up in front of the room that held a book Jeongguk’s name was somehow scribbled into and Jimin lost his life over. His grip on your hand trembled as he led his other to add into the ball as well,

“Please,” Your lips tightened at the defeat in his tone. “Let’s just go home. Please. I don’t want to know if that book is still there.”

Your heart dropped at his expression, the hunch of his stature that appeared so fragile. Contrasting his usual, upbeat demeanor, Jeongguk clearly evoked all of the guilt he felt from the events that transpired. You knew he was worried, but if that book was still there then was it really over?

You glanced to the shut door, inevitably reaching your hand to Jeongguk’s forearm. His eyes popped back to yours. You did want to know if the book was still there, but his resentment of the idea felt compelling as well.

With your elbows stiffened, you perched your head a top your hands. Looking nowhere in particular as you sat on the table in the shade of many swaying trees. The sunset had already dipped behind the horizon of the dormitory you were beside. Your phone hadn’t vibrated since you last sent a text, making your cheeks puff in wonder of whether he got the message or not.

“You look like a squirrel.” You hadn’t needed worry at all as Yoongi strode off the cement path, kicking leaves aside in a light-hearted manner. You straightened as he put a hand on the table, “What’s up?”

“Just wanted to see you,” You stated simply, brushing hair from your face as the wind kicked. Yoongi nibbled the inside of his cheek at your statement, waiting quietly for whatever you had to say next. “What?”

“Huh?” His eyebrows perked, “Wait, was that really all?” A flush of rose bit against the back of his neck despite the season being well into fall. You resisted grinning, but couldn’t stop a smile.

“Is that not enough?”

“No-”  He shut his mouth quickly, rubbing the back of his neck as a pout began. “You just,” He sighed, shrugging to hide the embarrassment, “You texted me half an hour ago-- I didn’t think you’d still be waiting here if it wasn’t important.”

“So it’s not important-”

“Angel,” He rolled his eyes, grinning at your teasing especially as you couldn’t contain an amused giggle. “It’s getting cold, let’s go in.”

The emptiness of his dorm room still made it difficult to avoid frowning. Opting to lay face first into Yoongi’s bed instead of dwelling, you simply sighed into the pillow, hugging it against your chest as you curled over to face him. Yoongi sat into the school owned desk chair, his fingertips tapping slowly on the bare desk beside him,

“Comfy?” He smiled softly, watching you nod with a thrumming beat behind his chest. “I don’t mind you being here for no reason, honestly.” He dragged his tongue over his lips in thought, contemplating whether it was worth bringing up. “But really if anything’s bothering you, you don’t have to keep it from me.”

“Yeah, I know.” You said softly, sitting up with his pillow still clutched in your lap. Your eyes strayed around, “Guk and I went to the house.”

“Why?” Yoongi’s eyes narrowed, the rhythm of his fingers stopping.

“I just wanted to see something, but we left basically as soon as we got there.” You looked up at him, “I know it’s over, Yoongi, but I felt like I needed to go and make sure, okay?”

Yoongi quieted, rationalizing your reaction in his thoughts. Certainly, he didn’t want to go back and would’ve disagreed if you had asked him originally, but not everyone copes the same way. And if anything you went with Jeongguk, not by yourself. Yoongi may not like it, but it wasn’t up to him, reasonably.

“Okay,” He started carefully, uncertain of where to go. “Then does it feel over?”

“Yeah,” You shrugged, “I don’t have as much trouble falling asleep at least.” Yoongi nodded his head softly, sock clad feet wheeling his chair towards the side of the bed. “I know it’s over, but I guess I feel anxious about it all still.” You rested the pillow against your lap, letting your arms lay over the top, “I still feel weird about lying to the police, but they wouldn’t have believed the real story.”

“I wouldn’t if I hadn’t been there.” He attested, reaching for your fiddling hands so as to try and relax them within his own. You let him, hitching a breath in the back of your throat. “But we’re all here for each other at least.”

You frowned, turning your hands in his to entwine the fingers. “Until you leave, yeah.” You sighed, feeling his grip tense around yours and the frown you expected to see when you looked back up. “I’m not mad about it anymore-- like I told you, but I’ll still miss you.”

Yoongi released your hands. The chair bumped against the desk as he stood from it and sat beside you. “It’s just an hour away at least-”

“Yoongi,” You smiled gently and shook your head, “I’m still gonna miss not being able to just walk across campus to find you, but I guess that it wasn’t always going to be like that anyways.”

“If you called me needing me, I’d come though.”

“Who says I’ll need you?” You bit back laughter as his arms trailed around your waist to drag you against him,

“You can’t just let the moment be cute, can you?” You smiled against his hoodie. His fingers created soft streams along your back, as his chin settled atop your head, “Then pretend to need me so I can have an excuse to come visit. Jeongguk wanting me to help tutor him in math isn’t enough.”

“He’ll be so sad.” You said with a dramatic pout, arching your head to look up at him. He shrugged dismissively, but you were sure he’d miss all of you as well. “You don’t need an excuse, and I don’t want to need one either if I want to visit.”

“I guess that’s fair.” He nodded, arms further constraining around your body, revelling in being able to hold you for the next two weeks. You bit your lip, pulling away only enough to look down at him. Yoongi’s eyes quirked expectant of you to speak.

“You remember what I said to you weeks ago? When we had that argument about you leaving.”  He sighed, stretching his neck as he nodded,

“I’m the worst for not telling you-”

“Not that, dork.” You bit your lip, “But kind of now that you mention it-”

“Then what?” He poked your side, gumbs peeking as you squirmed from the tickle.

“About you making me fall for you when you were just going to leave.” His smile vanished, leaving a frown behind and slightly hurt eyes. “Wait,” You trailed a thumb along his jaw, ending the path to press gently against his cheek. “I wanted to apologize for saying it like that.”

“You don’t need to,” Yoongi’s eyes diverted, “I should’ve told you a lot sooner.”

“But either way I shouldn’t have made you feel like crap.” You admitted smiling as you shrugged, “And saying I fell for you sounds cliche in retrospect.” You felt his hands stall along your sides, his eyes narrowing,

“Definitely cliche.” He nodded, biting back a smile as you pat your hand against his chest. “But I love you so I don’t care.” Your eyes widened, a smile growing wider at the bluntness, nearly laughing as he tried to feign being calm. A blush was already stinging his cheeks.

“You love me?” His hands squeezed your hips from your teasing, “I didn’t know-”

“Angel.” He sighed, head falling back against the mattress, “Just say it back so I can kiss you.”

“I’m sort of over people making me say things, you know.” He slid his hands up higher, tugging against you against his chest. “Seances and such.”  He rose an eyebrow, head shaking gently at the joke,

“Lame-”

“I love you.” You said smiling as his lips pursed back together. “You’re blushing-” But he ignored the teasing in favor of pressing his lips against yours. Hands pulled you tightly against him. Yoongi allowing the contact to linger as you broke for a breath, resting his forehead against yours. You just smiled, gently running your fingers through his hair, finally at a loss for words. He smirked softly, pecking once more as he muttered sarcastically,

“Did I put you in a trance?”

“Stop.”

[mrmarknewman]

Road rage: It’s all in your head

Two cars arrive at a stop sign at the same time.  Both start into the intersection.  One driver speeds through, while the other jams on the brakes, avoiding a collision.  This driver feels insulted, offended, diminished.  Who the hell does that other driver think he is?  He nearly killed me!

This scenario, and countless others involving merge lanes, contested parking spaces, and aggressive rush hour traffic, are set-ups for road rage.  The aggrieved party feels a flash of anger and hostility, and may swear aloud within the confines of his vehicle.  He may “give the finger” in a way the other driver may or may not see.  He may grumble to passengers about the lousy drivers in his town.  Sometimes the response is louder and more direct: yelling at the other driver, or even giving chase.  At the extreme, enraged parties physically retaliate with weapons, or by using their cars as battering rams.

What’s going on?  In a practical sense, the initial harm is often trivial.  A moment’s delay at a stop sign would be ignored under other circumstances.  The real trigger is what the behavior says about the perpetrator’s attitude — or more precisely, how it was interpreted by the “victim.”  Did the aggressive driver proclaim his time was more valuable?  Did he disregard or disrespect the other driver?  Was it a power play, a demonstration that “I can do whatever I want, and you’re powerless to stop me?”  Was it contemptuous?  “I don’t have to wait for the likes of you, you’re beneath my consideration.”

Actually, the offended driver doesn’t know.  One reason road rage is so prevalent is that the outsides of motor vehicles are inscrutable.  We can’t read the nonverbal cues of other drivers.  A car with a mean, aggressive driver who couldn’t care less whether you live or die looks very much like a car with a driver who honestly thought it was his turn to enter the intersection, and who would be mortified to know you were offended or frightened as a result of his actions.  While you were cursing and giving the finger, he may have been wincing and muttering “Oops, I’m sorry!”  But that was inside his own car.  You didn’t know.

Road rage, therefore, is nearly always self-generated.  It’s all in your head.  Do you tend to think of others as mean-spirited opportunists, ready to take advantage of you, disdainful of your wants and needs?  Or do you give strangers the benefit of the doubt, assume they meant no harm and didn’t aim to insult or diminish you?

Either attitude is contagious.  I recently visited a country with polite drivers.  I never felt stressed even if it wasn’t clear whose turn it was at an intersection.  It didn’t matter; we were all content to defer to the others.  In contrast, when traffic is dog-eat-dog, and when our self-worth rises or falls with our ability to cut through it efficiently, then everyone else is a rival and an obstacle.

None of this is unique to road rage.  Yesterday I was in a supermarket express checkout line, “15 items or less.”  (Um, “fewer.”)  Ahead of me another shopper was packing up three bags of groceries.  I stood there steaming as she slowly ended her cell phone call and took her good old time to pay the $63 she owed.  I rehearsed angry comments in my head: “I guess even people who can’t count still need to eat.”  I didn’t actually say anything.

Later I wondered what exactly irritated me so much.  I could have been equally delayed, yet completely untroubled, by any number of things.  It wasn’t the wait itself, it was my perception of the perpetrator’s attitude.  Apparently the supermarket’s rules didn’t apply to her.  She was self-important and inconsiderate.  Looming even larger psychologically was her attitude toward me.  I imagined she didn’t care about me at all.  My inconvenience was not her concern.  I felt disrespected, not taken into account.

These situations happen all the time.  A patient of mine recently shared how angry he feels when his teenage kids fail to turn off lights after he’s reminded them repeatedly.  We agreed it’s not the trivial increase in his electricity bill that bugs him.  It’s his perception of their laziness, their disrespect towards him and his values, perhaps their willful defiance.

In all these settings, indeed throughout our lives, we react to interpersonal transactions taking place in our own heads.  Occasionally our perceptions of contempt and disdain are accurate.  Sometimes brats, narcissists, and sociopaths really do put themselves first, and either don’t care about us or actively seek to hurt us.  But more often we’ve concocted a story.  We’ve been insulted, pushed around, treated like dirt.  And in response, we self-righteously strike back.

How can we escape this hall of mirrors?  Most simply, we can remind ourselves that our assumptions about others may be mistaken.  We may recognize that we tend to assume the worst in people, and take this bias into account.   There’s no need to assume evil intent when sheer stupidity — or momentary confusion or misunderstanding — can account for the behavior.

More psychoanalytically, we may reflect on our unconscious wish for care-taking and nurturance from others, and the anger that results when real life inevitably falls short of this yearning.  Such insight may spare us from projecting our own anger onto anonymous others.  And more philosophically, with years of meditation and discipline we could learn to detach our egos.  Slights from others have no effect upon the Self.  I believe this is one small aspect of Buddhist enlightenment, but don’t quote me.

Meanwhile, on that long road to enlightenment it doesn’t hurt to drive defensively.  And take a few deep breaths.

Steven Reidbord is a psychiatrist who blogs at Reidbord’s Reflections.

Image credit: Shutterstock.com

Your patients are rating you online: How to respond. Manage your online reputation: A social media guide. Find out how.

from KevinMD.com https://ift.tt/2PIFbIA