Jimin was gullible enough to believe that at the end of your life, people were reborn. Commonly into animals like a butterfly or maybe a panda bear, but he felt stuck in a purgatory state of "heaven" and "hell." Heaven being that he was still breathing. Although it felt forced, possibly manual. His brain failing to comprehend if his body had given up completely or continued to fight, memories pertain hazy and scattered. Pills. Lots of them.

Hell's gates were merciless, scorning him with the outcomes of his decision. Every vein in his body felt chilled to the touch, but burned in a scalding heat. The tightness of his throat and lurching attempt to throw up crashed over him like a tidal wave, his body rejecting the serene stillness that settled in those mere seconds. A pull, quite like when the tide is too strong, had Jimin begging for a release. Drowning him, dragging him further and further from equilibrium.

"Please help him! Jimin, hold on!"

A Voice rattled through the darkness of his mind, vibrating off of every corner. The panicked voice of Jin Hyung reverberated somewhere deep within Jimin's chest. This time it was different, not the kind of panic he experienced when he had once spilled boiling water on his hands making ramen. This emotion was more intense, desperate to say, but he couldn't understand as to why. He felt fine, his body and mind light as a feather.

Yet he wanted to open his eyes, and couldn't. The numbness from the tip of his head to the ends of his toes becoming colder as time passed. Was this it for him?

But a light waited at the end of the tunnel for Jimin, in the most violent way.

"Nurse, I need you to get the tube, and open the patient's mouth as wide as you can" Skittering and clanking of metal tools being pushed out the way rung in Jimin's ears. "we need to pump the stomach as soon as possible."

Out of all the times to be fully unconscious, Jimin really wished it were now. His eyes burned from the blurry, white lights of the hospital, ears completely sensitive to every movement and conversation between the staff. A doctor stood over him, Jimin's reflection staring back at him through his goggles as he unhinged his jaw and began to slide a long, plastic tube down his esophagus. A coughing fit entailed, dry heaving against the foreign object.

"Pour the liquid slowly, I'm gonna get the Flumazenil shot ready."

Coolness slicked his throat as the nurse began to pour. Quickly, and with such precision that Jimin within the next few seconds had his head turned ready for the next objective. To throw up. He couldn't bare it anymore, preparing for the worst, knowing the outcome would be painful, but there he was at 4 am in the hospital.

Vomiting his brains out, while the doctor held his arm tight to inject the needle.

Maybe Hell was on earth, and he was just living it.

Lying unresponsive and mute.

Praying for it all to go away, and luckily it did as he fell back unconscious.

"help me wheel him to an empty room. Also, notify the man in the waiting room that he is stable."