A chilling shiver cascaded down my spine as I stood before Jungkook's cell, my body paralyzed by a mix of dread and urgency. The dim light flickered weakly, casting elongated shadows across the stark, unforgiving space, heightening the sense of surrealism that enveloped me. My heart raced, each thud echoing in my ears as I took in the heartbreaking sight before me. There he lay, sprawled on the unforgiving concrete floor, his unconscious form twisted slightly, a troubled expression etched deeply into his delicate features.
Panic surged within me, a relentless tide pushing against the walls of my composure. My hands trembled uncontrollably as I fumbled for the key, my fingers slick with sweat and anxiety slipping more than once against the cold metal. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I managed to turn the key, its distinctive click echoing through the silence like a gunshot. Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I dashed to his side, each frantic heartbeat quickening the rhythm of my breath.
I knelt beside him, my heart aching at the sight of his feverish body, clammy and unresponsive. With immense care, I slipped my arms beneath him, lifting him off the unforgiving ground, my instincts driving me to protect him. He felt alarmingly light in my embrace, as if all the strength had been drained from him, leaving only a fragile shell. I positioned his head gently on my knees, desperate to find an angle that would ease his discomfort. As I brushed back the damp strands of hair from his forehead, I was struck by the unnatural warmth radiating from his skin, every inch of him slick with sweat—a tangible testament to his distress.
"Jungkook, please," I murmured, my voice thick with worry, strained with desperation as I searched his face for any signs of waking. My fingers instinctively pressed against the side of his neck, hunting for the reassuring rhythm of his pulse. I found it there, weak and erratic, barely a flutter against my fingertips. A wave of fear crashed over me, overwhelming in its intensity. I knew time was of the essence. With trembling hands, I retrieved my phone from my pocket, the weight of it feeling almost foreign in my grip as I dialed for an ambulance. My mind raced with agonizing possibilities, replaying the moments leading to this—had he suffered another panic attack, one so monumental that it had stolen him away from the world? How could this have happened?
"You will be alright. Everything will be alright," I whispered soothingly, my voice barely louder than a breath as I stroked back his damp bangs, slick from sweat, allowing warmth to linger on his skin. I pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his head, an instinctual gesture meant to convey my unwavering support and connection. "I am here with you, Jungkook. You are not alone in this frightening place anymore. I promise that I will take care of you." My words flowed like a vow, brimming with a fierce determination to help him heal. "I will fix you... somehow."
Suddenly, a voice pierced the heavy silence, yanking me from my thoughts with jolting force. "You can't be serious. Something more disgusting than this can't possibly exist." I glanced up sharply to see Taehyung and Jimin looming nearby, their expressions a volatile mix of disbelief and disdain as they regarded the scene before them.
Fear raced through me, igniting a flare of anger within as I locked eyes with Taehyung. "You can't be this cruel," I spat, each word trembling on my lips, laced with a combination of emotion and fury. The tension crackled between us, thick and potent enough to cut with a knife. Frustration radiated off me—an intense heat starkly contrasting the dread that had settled uncomfortably in the room. "I know what he did to you was wrong," I continued, my emotions raw, stripped bare, "but it would be better if you shut up right now." My voice rang out with a strength I didn't know I possessed, a collision of pain and defiance amid the gut-wrenching uncertainty hanging heavily in the air.
"What the fuck do you even see in this trash? He's anything but normal—just a total freak and a burden on society." Taehyung's harsh words sliced through the atmosphere, their cruelty palpable, mixing with the already tense air around us.
"Taehyung, stop! This isn't the time," Jimin hissed urgently, moving swiftly to position himself between Taehyung and me, his tone sharp and laden with anger at Taehyung's insensitivity.
The weight of Taehyung's words hung heavily in the air, piercing my heart like a cruel blade. My eyes stung, a mix of frustration and sadness swelling within me as I clung to Jungkook, desperate to shield him from their poison. He was gasping for breath, his skin pallid and clammy, each exhale a painful struggle against the crushing darkness that threatened to swallow him whole.
"Jungkook, the ambulance will be here any minute now," I whispered, striving to keep my voice steady, even as fear threatened to crack it apart. "Just focus on breathing for me, okay? Please…" My voice faltered, the vulnerability of the moment crashing over me like an unforgiving wave. I gently brushed my fingers against his cheek, desperate to provide some semblance of comfort. My heart raced as I watched his eyes remain stubbornly closed, each shallow breath echoing the fraying edges of hope in my chest.
***
Flashback
"Daddy is home. Did you miss Daddy?"
The sound of the bedroom door creaking open sent a jolt of fear through me, and I quickly scrambled to hide in the closet. My heart pounded in my chest as I pressed myself against the back wall, wishing I could disappear. The apprehension coiling in my stomach threatened to suffocate me.
"Come on, Jungkookie, let's play. Mommy isn't home, so no one will disturb us."
His voice was slurred, the distinct scent of alcohol heavy in the air, making me recoil at the familiarity of it. I could barely comprehend his incoherent words, the menacing undertone sending chills racing down my spine.
Wrapping my arms tightly around my trembling form, I braced myself, knowing full well that he would find me. He always did. There was no escape.
As he opened the closet door and reached for me, I felt hot tears spilling down my cheeks.
But he couldn't—or wouldn't—hear me.
His only concern was satisfying his own sick desires, forcing me into doing things that churn my stomach and twist my very being. It's as if he takes pleasure in my discomfort, relishing the power he holds over me.
"Mom, please help me," I whisper, my voice barely escaping my lips, trembling with despair.
But she doesn't hear me either. She doesn't care. I am acutely aware of the harsh truth—I am trapped, and my pleas fall on deaf ears. I feel defeated, abandoned.
Closing my eyes tightly, I strive to disconnect from the brutal reality surrounding me. I imagine a thick fog enveloping my mind, blocking out everything; I am desperate not to feel, to convince myself that this dark nightmare isn't truly happening. Inside, I scream and beg for the truth that this is all some horrid illusion. But the horrors continue unabated, invading my mind relentlessly. Nothing feels real—nothing except the overwhelming weight of despair.
I can't fight it anymore. My thoughts become a haze and I find my consciousness slipping away, dragged under by the relentless tide of suffocating darkness.
"Mommy… Mommy…" I call out to her in my mind. "Why don't you help me? Why don't you love me? Am I not your child any longer?"
***
I yearn to rise, to escape this torment, but my body betrays me, heavy and immovable. I hear the door click shut, a sound that sends a cold chill down my spine. With all my strength, I attempt to pull myself from the abyss, but all I can do is lay there, my body aching with every desperate attempt.
I can hear her down the hall, laughter spilling from the living room where my mom sits, the sound of amusement wrapped in a veneer of normalcy. She's laughing, and I can picture my dad, animatedly recounting the dullest of jokes, her laughter ringing out like a cruel reminder of the warmth I desperately seek but will never receive.
She doesn't come to check on me. She doesn't care that I'm here, alone and crying, wishing for her arms to envelop me in a cocoon of safety. But she doesn't appear.
She doesn't care.
She doesn't believe my cries for help.
In that moment, a bitter thought slithers through my mind—perhaps she hates me.
End of flashback
***
"Jungkook, please… open your eyes. I'm right here with you," your voice breaks through the fog, steady and filled with a palpable concern.
But deep within the labyrinth of my mind, a nagging voice taunts me, casting shadows over your words. No… No one is truly here for me. It must be another cruel trick of my fractured psyche, weaving a web of illusions that torment and confine me.
I despise my mind for its treachery.
Yet, if there's even a glimmer of truth in your presence, if someone genuinely stands by me, I beg for your help to pull me from this suffocating abyss. I fear I am teetering on the edge, on the brink of losing every piece of who I am.
Summoning the last remnants of my will, I gradually pry my heavy eyelids open. The dim light around me gradually came into focus, revealing you—my lifeline—holding my hand with an intensity that felt unfamiliar yet warm, like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. The blend of warmth and confusion washed over me, stirring something deep and buried within. Your gaze bore into mine, earnest and unflinching, conveying a raw honesty that I had long forgotten was possible. Tears glistened on your cheeks, a poignant contrast to the tender smile that managed to break through the sorrow.
A fierce spark ignited within me then. In that brief moment, enveloped by your presence, I realized I would do anything, move mountains if necessary, to escape this desolate prison.
I opened my mouth, desperation bubbling within me, but the words clung to my throat as if weighted down by a storm of emotions threatening to drown me—overwhelming despair clawed at my insides while frustration, hatred, and paralyzing fear wrapped around me like a suffocating shroud. I fought with the chaotic tempest inside me, yearning for answers that danced stubbornly just out of reach.
With newfound resolve, I tried again. My voice emerged small and trembling, each word a struggle against the cacophony of feelings swelling within me.
"I will love you for all that I am."
"I will do anything you desire."
"I will be entirely yours, heart and soul."
"I will be your devoted servant as long as I draw breath."
"But please, I beg you, take me away from this place. Before I lose myself completely."
Please, my Nonna!