INHUMANE | TAEKOOK

The First chapter

It was a nightly occurrence since my mother passed. He'd come into my room and do terrible things a father should never do to his son. He blamed me for her dying, because I was with her when the accident happened. We were having an innocent conversation, what should we have for dinner that night, when another car hit her side of the car. She died on impact, I walked off with a broken leg and some bruises.

   Tonight was going to be different. I had a plan, when I heard his footfalls on the stairs, I'd get ready to fight back. I had a knife ready under my pillow if it came to needing one.

  I heard his footsteps, and got ready. I sat up, shoulders squared, ready to fight. The door to my bedroom burst open, and there he was, my father. An empty soju bottle in hand, he stumbled towards my bed. I could smell the booze on him, he reeked of it like he always did. A dark chuckle escaped his lips, and he took another swig from the bottle.

  "I see little Jungkook's all ready, huh?" He chuckled again, grabbing my face and staring at my features. He spit, and it landed on the scar on my cheek.

  "It's a shame, you look so much like her. Too bad it was you who survived that crash, the world would be a better place without your sorry ass taking up space." He spit again, this time it almost landed in my eye, and that was when I decided it was enough.

"That's enough!" I had my eyes closed, and didn't see what I did right away. Wiping his spit from my eyes, I finally opened them.

  He was pinned against the wall, struggling to move. His eyes were full of fear. He started to scream, guttral and loud, probably alerting the neighbors.

  "Quiet." It took one word, one simple command, and he was silent. His eyes weren't on me though, they were flitting to the area around me. 

  Looking down, I was met with everything in the house that had a point. Knives, silverware, pens, pecils, everything, and for once, it felt like I was in charge. I smiled at him, and cocked my head to one side. I willed a small kitchen kife to fly over my head and bury it n the wall above his, and was honestly surprised when it worked. I willed another to bury itself in his hand, I knew I needed to get out soon, amd hoped it would keep him in place.

  A small steak knife flew forward, and buried itself into his hand, pinning him to the wall. His eyes widened in pain and shock, and I dropped the rest of the weapons.

  I started to pack a bag, I wasn't sure where I was goinh, but it felt like someone, somewhere, was telling me to come to them. I freed my father, and jumped out of the window, using my bag to break my fall.

And then i ran.

Jungkook's POV:

It felt like I was floating. I couldn't feel, see, or hear. I knew I was dreaming, which was strange, because I never dreamed. I was in an all black room, an easel with a painting on it appeared, the person in it I didn't know, I've never seen. His hair came to above his eyebrows, his cheekbones were sharp, his face stoic. The painting burst into flames, jarring me into half consciousness.

I heard voices before I saw the people. It sounded like there were two, a younger man and an older. I felt something poke my arm, my hand going up to push it away.

"Is he awake?" An one of the unfamiliar voices spoke. "Bangnim, I think he's waking up." I heard someone get up, maybe out of a seat, and footsteps retreating to the door.

"Go back to the others, Yoongi," A deep voice said as heavy steps got louder.

My eyes fluttered open, florescent light blinding me. As I got used to the bright light, I noticed a man bedside me. He was tall, dressed in all black and looking at me with worried eyes. He smiled when I opened my eyes, gentle and like an older sibling.