"We were made for each other.... I'm her, and she's me... nothing else matters, no else. Just us, " jeongguk exclaims loudly, eyes devoid of the very little emotion he had.
"You're insane, jeongguk! You sound like a freaking phsycho!" Namjoon seeth...
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TAKE MY WINGS; NOT MY LOVE, FOR SHE MEANS MORE TO ME THAN MY OWN LIFE.
Prologue
Kim Y/n is a young, and beautiful, 17 year old girl. The daughter of Kim Ji-ho and Kim Hayami.
She's very understanding on the outside and well put. A beauty known to many, just like her mother.
However, Y/n, although she portrays love for her parents, doesn't really understand the concept of love.
She's never received it and has no trust for it. Y/n grew up trained, like a dog, taught from right and wrong. Or so she thought.
Since young Y/n has been forced and trained to study every subject imaginable. She was top of her classes in her private school and class president for years as well as student council president.
She was a forced prodigy, a child with strings tied to control her every move. It's all she could give to her parents to show how grateful she was for being born, for ruining their lives.
She's known for quite some time that she was a mistake, probably much worse than that. She was never allowed to forget it, with her father's constant comments about how she was supposed to be a boy to keep his company going, not some flimsy, ugly, sensitive girl.
No she'd repeat it in her brain over and over.
She'd pray to God and ask why he did such a thing to her parents? Asking why she should suffer for it but in the end she concluded she was her parents' punishment and because of this she got punished by them.
Y/n has grown used to by now though, her brain has normalized it, a common occurrence, just as common as breathing.
But it didn't stop her from trying to please her parents. She'd do everything to please them, her parents, even if most times she'd end up in the hospital, but she could care less.
She'd just hop back up, go to her house and study like it was normal, and in a sense it was, for her at least.
She'd practice all kinds of sports with her father since he wanted her to be the best at everything and his training was quite extreme, something most people including himself wouldn't be able to handle.
She recalls a distant memory of when her father signed her up for her first sport, swimming, he forced her to swim in cold weather, rainy, sunny, foggy.
It didn't matter to him as long as she was practicing. After about a year or so she finally joined competitions winning first in most of them, not all.
That not all was only one loss and that loss stuck her with so much regret and force she'd taught herself to keep going and to win no matter what.
The day of her first loss was quite a surprise to her, the boy she lost to caught her by surprise and cost her the win, she was fidgety after that.
Looking around with wide Bambi eyes searching for her fathers angry face but what she came across was a smile so smooth and sympathetic, almost believable, realistically put into reality.
That smile warmed her, that smile tricked her. She was naive to think it was real, she was naive to forget the cameras were watching, but naive little Y/n believed it anyway, taking the compliments like it was a gold medal and not some silver one that hung low on her neck.
Little Y/n smiled and hugged her father, smiling so bright, so pure, and so innocent. So oblivious to the rough hands gripping her arms.
On the way back home she hummed a song she always recited when happy. The abrupt stop, in the parking lot, to their house brought her out of her happy little world unbuckling her seat belt and rushing inside to tell her maid everything that had happened.
She however never made it that far, stopping when she heard the footsteps of her father resounding behind her, turning quickly to smile at him and ask what was wrong , though that question never came, what came was a harsh sensation on her left cheek.
With her head tilted to the side and cheek flushed red she dared to look up, brain trying to process what had happened within the span of just a few seconds, the young girl's thought process never completed itself.
Before she could actually comprehend a lick of sense her head was snapped back with a force so harsh she found it quite hard to stand from it, simply falling to the gray, cold, marble floor.
Drops of blood pooled beneath her nose, head throbbing a sob escaped her lips and before she could even properly breathe another breath an echoing hit reached the back of her head body collapsing fully.
Ragged breaths left her and a whine filled the room, footsteps could be heard marching off and just like that the happy atmosphere the girl projected faded along with her concessions.
That night was the first night Mr. Kim, Y/n's father, laid hands on his daughter. That was the night her nightmare became her hell.
