You Promised『 jikook 』

【 EDITED 】 Thirty-Six

[Edited: March 5, 2018]

***

"Laugh"

"Jimin-hyung." I woke up to the familiar angelic voice. I rubbed my eyes and looked around me, noticing I was on Jungkook's bed.

The room was filled with nothing but white furniture, making the place look too bright. Then I realized Jungkook was no where in sight.

"Jimin!"

I slowly stood up, hesitating whether or not I should follow that voice. What if it wasn't him? 

"Jimin! Hyung! Jiminie!" The voice continued shouting for me.

Where am I really?

"Jiminie!" I turned around to see a smiling Jungkook in the middle of the blank room and the bed has also disappeared as if it was only meant to be me and Jungkook there.

"Come here."

"Jungkook? Why am I here? What happened? I remember beingㅡ"

"Everything's okay now, Jimin-hyung. You're safe, baby," he grabbed my right hand to intertwine our fingers together and pulled my waist to his.

"Kookie . . ." I shifted uncomfortably. It wasn't because I didn't want it. I fucking loved it. I was simply surprised. I love him and I love being touched by him and feeling his warmth, the way his hands fit mine like they were really made for each other and I love simply being with him . . . 

. . . But I can't.

I can't fall any deeper than I already have.

"Hyung?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"I love you, too," I said honestly. I couldn't lie anymore. I love him and he had to know the truth. I may be fucked up, my mind is fucked up and I don't rarely make the best decisions, but I love him.

I can't stop loving him.

Oh, God. What is wrong with me?

He pulled me closer and I put my arms around his neck as his lips met mine once again. I closed my eyes immediately, feeling him even better.

The kiss lasted long as it was filled with passion and desperation. 

God, how much I missed this.

How much I missed him.

We pulled away at the same time. I was still in a daze and I hadn't opened my eyes yet when Jungkook suddenly spoke.

His voice changed into another familiar one which I hated so much. It wasn't his.

It wasn't Jungkook's voice, nor was it even him in the first place.

"Where are you, Jimin?" the voice that asked me sounded thrilled as if the owner of it and I were merely playing some innocent hide-and-seek.

I hesitatingly opened my eyes to see that I was locked in my own closet. I was covering my mouth, hiding myself from my father. I remembered successfully escaping from him after he beat me up and hid in the closet because I couldn't get out of the windows which he had sealed. He was also guarding the front door and I couldn't have possibly gotten out from there.

So, I hid in the closet and lost consciousness for the second time that night.

"Jimin! I know you're out there!"

The way he called me made me cringe and I wanted to throw up as I already knew what he was gonna do with me if he found me.

I stood there, controlling my shaggy breaths and trying my hardest to keep silent.

But then my phone rang.

***

With my legs broken and my whole body beat up, I cried and asked for him to stop.

Why is everything my fault?

He continued cursing at me and hitting me with his belt. He already tied my hands up with a rope, so that I couldn't fight back.

He also threw my phone and it broke into pieces. I cried even more when I realized it could've been Jungkook who was calling.

He laughed like everything was just a joke, like he loved seeing his own son miserable all because of him.

Like he always did.

It lasted for I don't know how long but it sure as hell felt like eternity for me. I was bleeding by the bruises on my skin and I was crying so hard that it felt like I was already crying blood.

I tried to scream and I physically could've since he already removed the thing he put in my mouth, but I still could not do it.

It was like there were was something else down my throat. I couldn't scream and I couldn't breathe.

I felt like I was dying. And I hoped I was . . .

. . . 'Cause then I wouldn't have to suffer any longer.

He stopped when he finally grew exhausted and left me alone to get some more 'tools'. I heard him mumble all about it, saying he had to dispose of me better.

Better?

I shouldn't have asked about my aunt, but out of my stupid curiosity, I did and I honestly wish I hadn't.

He laughed and told me she got what she deserved. I never knew I'd cry for her, until that moment.

She was part of the reason my mom died, but she was still her sister, my aunt and she treated me like her own son for the past few years. I wasn't heartless to not feel anything about hearing my dad 'disposed' of her.

I felt tears in my eyes again and I couldn't breathe even more. I took in deep breaths but this method would no longer work.

I was suffocating again and he was laughing at me.

Just like my demons did and always have.

His voice, his insults, his provocations adding to the voices inside my head . . .