Canvas | Jikook

Illusion

"It's crawling in my skin, rendering me hopeless, like the devils sick of sin, keeping me captive..."
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*Trigger warning! Mentions of abuse and non consensual acts *

(Jimins POV during the time when he was home alone, while Jungkook was at Mr. Parks office)
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Jimins POV

Jungkook had been gone for a while now, so I was roaming around the house in hopes of keeping myself occupied. I told him I'd be fine on me own, even though he was hesitant about it. I'm not sure where he went though, I should've asked but I didn't want to pry too much.

I didn't like being alone, in all honesty, it terrifies me. While at the same time, I'm petrified of being surrounded by crowds of people. Strange, I know... I was never like this, I never wanted to be like... I didn't ask to become like this... But i know I have to overcome those fears eventually.

For the first time, I'm willing to do something about it. I want to find my way out... as scary and overwhelming as it is, I can't allow it to keep eating me alive. I've felt alone for the longest time, despite not actually being alone. And this time, I know for sure,

I'm not alone. Not anymore.

I didn't realise how much hearing those words cascade out Jungkooks lips would mean to me. How much they'd effect me, drilling in my heart and soul, declaring themselves to make sure I fully understood.

It's about time, that I break through my leashes, the chains that have held me captive, dreadfully tearing me apart. I will piece myself together, no matter how long it takes, I will suffice. And although I don't think I could do it on my own, I will allow myself to indulge in Jungkooks comfort, in his guidance.

I know it might sound selfish, relying on him to piece myself together again. However I don't see myself coming out as victorious on my own. I would have never had the courage to even think about collecting myself again, facing my inner demons and damaging past if it weren't for him.

I won't allow my horrifying past to continue defining who I am. It's almost laughable, isn't it? How long it's taken me to try and come to terms with myself. Most might think I'm overreacting. Yet even so, I would never even dream of telling them to imagine what it's like to be locked up in a cold damp basement, miles away from home and left to starve on a daily basis.

Getting beaten to a pulp when the smallest sound left your lips, then drenched in alcohol as a form of 'bathing yourself'.

My body shivered in fear as I recalled those filthy hands groping my skin, my flesh so bruised that I came to terms with the fact that my skin will forever remain that purple-blue hue.

I shook my head, dismissing the memories from crashing through my brain and causing me to have a panic attack. I can't deal with them all at once, it's too much for me... too... painful...

I took in a deep breath, shutting my eyes tightly to refrain the tears from bursting though my tear ducts. Back then, when it all started, I wished and prayed that he would just die. That he'd collapse somewhere and get mauled by wild animals. That maybe he'd die instantly at the impact of on oncoming car. Or that he'd realise he's a waste of oxygen, a revolting excuse for a human and just commit suicide.