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Jungkook stumbles out of the house, as quickly as he is physically able. He runs as fast as he can, down the street for a few hundred meters, before finally collapsing, as his body begs him to do so. He throws up the entire contents of his stomach, into a near by bush. The gut-wrenching sobs, tear through his chest, leaving Jungkook short of breath.
his body feels dirty, the pain in his lower half, unbearable, he has disgusting hickeys, littering his neck, scratches and bruises, decorating his body in the most disgusting ways possible. Jungkook covers his mouth with a trembling hand, only now the thought closing in on him, he is no longer a virgin.
Kijung's words, slash through his mind, "your friends only stick with, in the hopes of getting something sexual in return." In the moment, with Jungkook, collapsed on the sidewalk, beside a vomit ridden bush, he can't help believe his words. It was true, the conversation of who is going to take Jungkook's virginity, came up a lot.
"They have no more use for me," Jungkook whimpers quietly, picking himself up off the path, wanting to get as far away from Kijung, and his godforsaken torture home.
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Only when Jungkook gets home, does he finally check his phone, seeing that his friends had been blowing up his phone. He had made the connection pretty quickly, that Kijung had given them a fake address. And Jungkook, being stubborn in the moment, had believed that it would be better to just 'make his own way there,' rather than getting a ride with his friends.
Hoebi Jungkook Jungkook Don't go to the party I think Kijung might be planning something
Jinbitch Kijung gave us a fake address
Namhoe Jungkook I swear to god Answer us
DaddyTae Babydoll Please answer
SugaDaddy Jungkook Come on I'm actually worried Don't tell anyone else tho
ShwatyJiminnie I'M GOING TO START CRYING IF YOU DON'T ANSWER!
Juancock Jesus guys I was taking a nap I decided not to go
Tears, flood down Jungkook's ashen face, he hates lying to his friends, but he can't bare to tell them the truth. Jungkook can feel his stomach heave, yet again, and he quickly stumbles his way to the bathroom, throwing up once again.
"Oh, so you finally came home. Drunk as always," his foster mother says, the hint of wanting to start a fight, evident in her voice.
"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY ROOM," Jungkook screams, venom lacing his voice, before throwing up again, the memories flashing before his eyes, burned into his retina.
"How dare you speak to me like that," the woman persists.
"I SAID FUCKING LEAVE! I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU, OR THIS FUCKING TOWN AGAIN! FUCK YOU, FUCK YOUR HOUSE, AND MOST IMPORTANTLY, FUCK THIS ENTIRE FUCKING WORLD," Jungkook screams, pain scratching into his words.
The woman takes a step back, never has she ever heard Jungkook, with such pain in his voice, unsure of what to do, she leaves Jungkook, softly closing the door behind her.
Jungkook sobs into the disgusting, vomit sainted toilet bowl. He rests his heavy head, against his arm, as the salty tears continue to roll down in a steady stream.
Jungkook gets up, flushing the toilet, walking over to the mirror. His neck is mostly a sick purple and blue colour, from the amount of hickeys left. It wasn't like when someone like Hoseok, would leave hickeys. Jungkook would wear those with pride, showing to everyone, that he was 'owned' by six particular men. But this time, he wanted nothing but to physically remove his neck.
With shaky hands, Jungkook lifts up his shirt, throwing it to the side. He has to choke back the urge to vomit, once again. More hickeys, bruises from where Kijung punched him, in a frenzy to hold him down, and scratches, all stand out, against his warm caramel skin.
Jungkook stumbles back, his bare back, making contact with the cold titled wall. He can't believe his eyes, small pleads escape his lips. Begging, for this all to be a dream.
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Jungkook sat on his bed, starring straight forward at the wall in front of him. His hair still damp, skin raw red from scrubbing, trying to rid himself of the disgusting feeling. His foster mother, had walked in a few moments ago, but was quickly shut out, by a metal water bottle, flying in her direction. It left a huge dent in both the door and the bottle.
And that's how Jungkook sat for the rest of the night. Unable to sleep, unable to eat, unable to drink. Mindlessly staring at the blank wall in front of him, as the horrid night, replays over and over in his mind.
Every time he moved, aches are sent through his body, reminding him that he is no longer a virgin, reminding him of how he was unable to fight back. Hot tears well up in his eyes, once again. Unable to stop the waterfall, he cries with the force of vomiting, covering his mouth with a shaky hand. Jungkook can feel his throat trying to close up on itself, while his lungs beg for more air, as more hot tears drip onto his baggy sweatpants.
Jungkook used to ask, 'why me? Why do I have to sit here, and suffer through beating after beating, sleepless night after sleepless night? Why do I have to endure all this pain? Why me, why am I the unlucky one?' But no answer has ever come to him. And in his frenzy of hot tears, painful memories and an inability to move, a new question presents itself.
'What's the point?'
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Oof now that's the hot teaaaa.
This book only has a few more chapters on it, and I'll try to get them to you as soon as possible.
