MALEVOLENT HEART | TK

Chapter Twenty

TRIGGER WARNING:
abuse; blood; murder; religion

***

"I'm just a product of the system, a catastrophe
And yet a masterpiece, and yet I'm half-diseased
And when I am deceased
At least I go down to the grave and die happily
Leave the body and my soul to be a part of thee
I do what it takes."

"You're a worthless piece of shit." The man spat, his eyes squinted as he stared him up and down with flames swirling in his eyes. His breath reeked of alcohol but that wasn't a surprise—he couldn't remember the last time his father has been sober. Sometimes he wondered if he ever was. "You're a good for nothing piece of crap. No wonder your mom left you. Who would stand seeing your lanky arms and stupid eyes each day?"

He stared at the man, brows lowered into a frown, teeth clenched so tightly he felt like he was going to break them in pieces. His fists, small and frail, were clenched to the point that his fingers had turned white. There was such anger inside him, anger that's been filling him up for years.

He has been born angry, Yoongi sometimes thought.

Still, he knew better than to talk back to that actual piece of shit of a father he had. The last time he did that, he walked—more like crawled—back to his room with a fractured rib and busted lip. He had learnt his lesson but that didn't mean he couldn't be angry.

That didn't mean he didn't feel like smashing the side of his head with that bottle on the table.

He hated him, so much.

All he could see, all he could hear, when he watched that man were the whimpers of his sister whenever she got beaten up. Yoongi hated those sounds.

Yoongi hated that man.

Yoongi hated everyone and anything—he was so filled with anger that he sometimes felt like he was a bomb, just waiting for the right time to explode.

"You're not gonna say anything, dumbass?" The alcoholic asked, his words slurred as he walked towards the child. "You're the one who spilled my fucking bottle! You should at least tell me you're sorry for being so dumb."

Yoongi hadn't spilled anything. The bastard had tripped over his own bottled and was now blaming him.

He hated him.

He hated him.

He hated him.

But he was going to take the anger and the hits if it meant keeping his sister safe.

He was going to take everything to keep her safe.

"Stupid bastard." The man mumbled, his arm already raised as he prepared to hit Yoongi. "Fucking stupid."

The slap echoed in the room—loudly. Loud enough to make Yoongi's ears buzz. It stung but the pain was familiar. He welcomed it and he welcomed the taste of blood in his mouth as he turned towards the man and spat the liquid at his feet.

Pain made him feel good. It made his body boil with anger more and more. It made his skin prickle with excitement, the type of excitement he felt every time he played with his friends or the dogs on the street.