Chapter Seventeen.
"Deeper, deeper, the wound just gets deeper. Like pieces of broken glass that I can't reverse."

Warning: profanity may be used, GORE.

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Jungkook's POV
3/22/18, 3:27 AM

"No! No, your not! Your not gay Jungkook!" Eva screamed at me.

"Baby, calm down. I'm not gay, I'm bisexual," I rubbed her arm up and down in a soothing manner, but she pushed me away.

"THAT'S BULLSHIT," She screeched, her high pitched scream piercing my ears. I covered my ears and flinched at her outburst.

"I'm not gay, I'm bi. There's a difference, " I said sternly, glaring into her eyes. But she glares right back.

I sigh deeply, looking away while rubbing my temples. Knowing that she won, yet again.

"Y'know, if your gonna be this way all the time, then just fucking shoot me, " I said while looking directly into her eyes, knowing what road I'm going down.

She went to grab something from her nightstand drawer, pulling it out, and taking the safety off.

She aimed the gun right at my head, glaring right into my soul, daring me to say something.

"Do it," I said challengingly.

She quickly aimed at my left thigh, shooting me.

I try to scream in agony but she quickly gags me, in an attempt to stop my sounds.

She grabs my head, trying to make me look at my wound. But I know better. If I look at it, it'll only hurt worse.

"Look at what you did!"

I shut my eyes closed, disobeying her wishes.

She hums in response.

At this point I'm sitting on the bed, trying to withstand the pain. I can feel the blood pooling out, my eyesight fading away along with my sanity. The light that once shown through at the end of the tunnel, is now pitch black.

I look up at my girlfriend, to see a sinister smirk painted on her face. Her lips formed into a crazed smile once she saw I was looking at her. Her eyes shifting from my bleeding out wound to my hurt-filled eyes.

"I-I never meant literally," I barely mumbled out. I squeezed my eyes shut once again, trying to bear the pain.

The pain that's both physically, and mentally.

I once tried to give up everything... But Eva didn't handle that too well. She went completely bonkers... Again.

But it's okay. She loves me, and only me. She's the only one here for me, the only one that understands. I can handle a little pain for this misunderstood love. Just call it... Battle Scars of Love... Yeah, that.

I started to calm down until I felt pressure on my wound. Then I started to scream into the gag once again, my breathing picking up an abnormal pace.

"Shh... It's going to be okay Jungkookie. I'll make you feel like your in heaven once you bare the pain, calm down, " Eva whispered into my ear as she crawled on top of me, grinding on my member.

But. Her finger is still digging deeper, and deeper into my wound. This makes tears pool out onto the mattress as I now lay on my back.

I don't even feel pleasure. It hurts so bad. When can I wake up from this nightmare?

Nightmare...

Nightmare...

Nightmare...

9/4/18, 4:55 AM
I shoot up in my bed, my breaths ragged, as I wake up.

What the heck kind of dream is that!? But... Why did it feel so real?

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Taehyung's POV
6/2/18, 1:43 AM

I remember the one memory of my old friend and I spray painting the garage of some random person. Before I knew it, I was tracing my footsteps from years ago, back on to that dark, winding path. As I walked farther and farther down this path, everything became darker, a lonely feeling settling in the suffocating air around me. I looked around at the scenery. The normally bright colored plants that litter the side of the road have withered into nothing. Everything that I once cherished gone.

I kept walking before seeing a screwdriver in the middle of the road. Its metal was rusted to a nasty looking brown-orange, the yellow handle covered in dirt. I picked it up and held it tightly in my right hand.

I continued on my path before finally seeing the garage. The house looked abandoned and rundown, but the paint on the garage looked relatively new. The windows of the house were busted in. It looked haunted.

I went back to looking at the thing I came here for. That damn garage. I glare at the paint that's permanently stuck on it. I ran my free hand over the paint, sighing. Seems as if others have followed in the steps as I have, as there is more paint than there was before.

Ah, the times when spray paint was my best friend. Tears then stung my eyes as I thought back to my friend and I.

Then a strange rush of anger coursed through my veins as I slightly scrunched my nose up. My 'friend'.

That paint reminded me of him. What he said. The way he talked to me. How he acted. What he did.

I can't take it anymore. It hurts. Save me from this pain.

If I make the paint go away... Will the pain also do so? Might as well try.

See, people often confuse my mental pain with the nonexistent physical pain. It's just that nobody understands.

I take the screwdriver I picked up along the way and brought it up to the door. Taking a deep breath, I scratched the paint with force.

It wasn't enough.

Raising my hand again, I repeated the action.

Again. Again. Again.

I kept on going until my hand grew tired.

I looked up at the barely chipped paint. It looked as if it spelled something. I furrowed my brows, stepping back, trying to read what it said as a headache started to form. My breathing increasing as a faint siren can be heard in the distance.

I blinked my eyes a couple times, disbelief crowding my vision

I turn around slowly with my hands raised, out of fear I dropped the screwdriver. The sound of the siren was deafening.

But a smirk was plastered on my face. A smirk that hides the truth.

Two cops rush up to me, slamming me into the garage before taking me away, swiftly snapping the cold metal handcuffs onto me. He was saying something, but I can't hear anything except that siren.

This is the second time I've been arrested.

As I was being dragged into the police car I felt myself start to drift into unconsciousness. The world around me disappearing.

I awoke to the feeling of being slammed onto an uncomfortable chair, facing me towards the table. The room was dimly lit, casting an eerie glow onto the person sitting in front of me. There sat a man with a laptop, typing away.

"Name?" His booming voice rung.

"Kim Taehyung, " I look directly into the officer's eyes as I chocked back a sob.

Be strong, don't let them get to you. Don't let them be the ones to break you.

"Age?" The same deep voice asked.

"Twenty-one."

"Parents?" he asked timidly.

I look away as I answer, "I don't have any."

I tap my fingers against the table anxiously, my eyes glaring into the floor.

"You may have one call," he said while dragging me to the phone box.

"I don't have anyone to run to."

"Oh, boo-hoo," He said, no sympathy in his eyes.

I gave up on trying to fight it and I pick up the phone, instantly dialing the one and only person I could trust. The only person who might care.

RapMonster.

It keeps ringing and ringing, but in the end, no one answers.

But the ringing continues in my ear. I slam the phone back but it keeps going.

I turn around quickly to see my 'brother' glaring at me.

He marches up and grabs me, trying to drag me away.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" I keep repeating the only thing that seems right.

He successfully drags me out but the scenery changes into my apartment where I see my sister sleeping peacefully.

By now the ringing is making me go deaf.

"I'm sorry! Forgive me, brother! I'm sorry! Forgive me, sister! I'm sorry!-"

9/4/18, 4:55 AM

"IM SORRY!" I jolt up, sweat running down my face and spine, my breathing escalated.

"Not again..." I sob and curl into a ball trying to forget the past.

Why does this have to happen to me... No, I know the reason. It's all your fault Taehyung! You're the one to blame here! So stop trying to convince yourself it's not real or that it didn't happen! Because it did! Don't you remember what your 'brother' told you?

Who am I kidding? I could never forget the words of truth...

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