"Your mother and your sister don't have to find out." His father whispered in Jungkook's ear before rolling his body off him.
"I know how deeply you detest your mother. Have you ever thought about what it might be like to rid yourself of her entirely? I'm so exhausted from her constant complaints and criticisms. She was fully aware that I wanted you more than anything, and as soon as she realized that, she became consumed by jealousy. If she weren't around anymore—and that insipid little girl, too—then it would finally just be the two of us, with no interruptions or distractions.
Jungkook lay on the bed, his body a patchwork of bruises in varying shades of purple and yellow, each mark a reminder of the pain he had endured. His usually bright eyes appeared hollow, staring vacantly at the ceiling as if searching for something just beyond reach. The room was dimly lit, adding to the heaviness that settled around him.
With a heavy sigh, his father placed a cold, glinting knife on the sheets beside Jungkook. The metal reflected the faint light, casting a thin beam across the bedspread.
"Here," his father said. "Think about it."
The words hung in the air, heavy with implication, as Jungkook turned his gaze slowly towards the knife, contemplating the dark invitation it represented.
***
Jungkook's pov
What should I do?
I could feel the warmth of your embrace enveloping me, the steadiness of your arms cradling me like a fragile glass doll. Somehow, you managed to bring me into your bedroom, gently laying me down on your soft bed. Though I struggled to help you, my body felt so weak and uncooperative, as if it were made of lead.
I'm so sorry. I know I'm a burden—a pain in your head.
I am so sorry.
I stand here feeling a profound sense of shame, a heavy weight pressing down on my chest. I'm just a stranger in your home, an uninvited guest who has suddenly turned your world completely upside down. The look on your face tells me all I need to know—I've disrupted the life you once knew.
I find myself grappling with urgent and unsettling questions: Why am I still alive? What am I actually doing with my life? What is my purpose? Who am I?
I feel lost and adrift, as if everything I once knew has slipped through my fingers like sand. The only sensation that seems to anchor me is a simmering anger that I can't fully grasp or understand. It bubbles beneath the surface, an ever-present reminder of something deep and unsettling.
I often find myself struggling with some deep fears about who I am. There's a constant worry inside me that I might accidentally hurt you again. Just thinking about causing you pain fills me with a heavy sense of guilt that I know would stay with me forever.
Alongside this, I have a confusing and unsettling feeling toward you that I can't quite understand. It's like there's a dark part of me that wants to cause harm, and that realization scares me. The intensity of these mixed emotions often makes my heart race, fueled by the turmoil I feel when I think about you. I'm left wondering where these unsettling feelings come from and how to balance them with my strong desire to protect you instead of hurting you.
I find myself longing to connect with you, yet simultaneously feeling an urge to distance myself. It's a confusing push and pull that weighs heavily on my mind.
I wouldn't say I like this world I am living in.
I wouldn't say I like those who brought me into this world.
I hate people, and I want to hurt them as much as they hurt me.
Why do I have so much anger?
Is it true? They did take me in their house and abused me?
Did I kill them? Even that little girl?
Am I such a monster?
Maybe I am.
Maybe my mind truly barricaded itself against the memories of everything I had endured. Perhaps that's the reason why their faces remain a nameless blur in my memory. Maybe that's also why I can't recall any joyful moments we might have shared. Or perhaps, those happy moments simply never existed.
As the hours drifted by, you continued to hold me tightly, your body shaking with sobs. I couldn't grasp the depth of your sorrow. No one had ever cried for me before—not in my recollection, anyway. The weight of that realization settled over me like a heavy fog.
Now you had succumbed to sleep, your face mere inches from mine. I found myself captivated, unable to look away.
What is wrong with you?
Who are you?
Why do you care so much when there's no reason for you to? Normal people don't—at least, that's what I thought.
But what even defines "normal"? What I felt in this moment could only be described as my own version of it.
I let my eyes wander down from your serene closed eyelids to your lips, a tidal wave of longing washing over me. My chest tightened with an intensity that I hadn't experienced in a long time. I yearned to touch you, yet the very thought left me bewildered. Why did I even want that?
To feel your skin against mine—how would that even happen? My heart raced as I leaned in closer, teetering on the edge of desire without fully comprehending what I was yearning for.
I clamped my eyes shut, striving to regain some semblance of control. But your scent enveloped me, intoxicating and alluring, rendering my thoughts muddled. You were achingly beautiful, and all these feelings I was grappling with left me feeling disoriented, almost as if I were drowning.
Then, much to my surprise, you opened your eyes. There was a flicker of confusion as your gaze met mine and then drifted down to my lips, so tantalizingly close. I noticed the sudden shift in your expression—the way your eyes darkened, clouds of uncertainty blanketing their warmth.
Who did you think I was? Him? But I'm not him. I am merely me. But as I hovered in this moment, I questioned if I truly wanted you to see me as I am.
I found myself entirely lost.
With a delicate resolve, I wrapped my arms around your waist, pulling you closer, feeling a rush of heat course through me. I was breathless when your fingers brushed softly across my cheek. My heart raced erratically as I slid my hand around your neck, finally bringing my lips to meet yours.
I saw fear flicker in your eyes, but did you understand the terror that gripped my own heart? How could anyone feel so utterly fragmented?
You melted into my embrace, wrapping your arms around me, your eyes fluttering shut as you kissed me back—tentatively, as if you were afraid of the intensity of what we were sharing.
What was I doing? Why was I allowing this? Was this a response to my crippling loneliness? Or was my heart simply too exposed, too raw?
What compelled me to touch you? I had lectured myself repeatedly that I shouldn't, that it was wrong, even repulsive. Yet with you, it felt paradoxically different.
A tidal wave of emotion crashed within me, sweeping through my heart, mind, and body. I felt warmth spread through my limbs, an electric current coursing through every inch of me.
You shivered against me, as if trying to meld your essence with mine, as if seeking a place within my soul. But how could you find anything there? Nothing lurked in my depths aside from shadows—and they weren't anything beautiful.
I felt warmth flooding my body where there had once been only coldness. Your touch had an inexplicable effect on me. As you began showering my face with gentle kisses, I couldn't tear my gaze from you. Yet, words eluded me; I was paralyzed by fear over the whirlwind of emotions swirling within.
I am not him. I shouted silently in my mind. Do you truly know who I am?
Do you truly know?