perfect man || jikook

thirty one

thirty one—

jungkook saw black.

pure black and never-ending darkness all around him. he attempted to move, but it was almost as if he didn't have a body. he couldn't feel attachment, or sense anything at all, being that they were the basic building blocks on the inside of a human vessel, he could only assume he was without one.

where was he?

this couldn't be... death could it?

the darkness rippled, contorting and twisting to all of a sudden vanish and leave jungkooks conscious in a vague, white room.

his thoughts were still. but confused.

his eyes darted around, now aware that he had a body of some sort.

two doors resided on the opposite wall; one black and one white.

they both beckoned, calling out to him softly.

he didn't move towards either of them, still confused.

where was he?

what was this room?

what were those doors for?

his few recent memories, flew back to him, hitting him like a flick in the forehead.

he was dead.

wasn't he?

his eyes shifted from the floor to the black door.

come to me...

it beckoned. his eyes widened at the familiar voice.

a white silhouette appeared in front of the door, a warm smile on its face.

his mother.

darling, come to me... we can be together again!

the silhouette opened her arms wide, beckoning for a hug.

jungkook stepped forward, his longing to be with his mother growing.

as a child, his mother had been healthy and happy, filling her son with joy everyday. but one day when jungkooks best friend was over, a man broke into the house, and brutally murdered his mother and his friend, in front of jungkook.

his father had never been in the picture, so he was left to survive on his own, scarred by his mothers death.

my baby!

the silhouette called out to him again, the smile beginning to look somewhat odd.

jungkook walked forward, approaching his mother, his eyes beginning to grow slightly dull with each step.

this was impossible.

how was his mother here?

she was supposed to be dead, and had been for years now.