Wound || pjm

One

"But Dad, she isn't your official wife! Why would you care about her?!"

"Shut the fuck up, Jimin!", his hand hit my cheek hard.

I was dazed for a moment. The hotness on my cheek felt through my body.

"So you would hit your biological son just for your girl," I started to tear up.

"Jimin-" his other hand were right above me to hit me again in the other side but I walk away just before it hit me.

I quickly grab my motorbike keys- well, not mine though, it's my father's. But since I'm the one who always ride it, why don't call it mine?

Feeling emotional, I got onto the motorbike and rode off the house. Along the road, I was crying with all my heart. I tightened my grip onto the handle until I felt some liquid flowing out from my palm. My eyes ran around to find a gas station nearby. Well, lucky me, there is. 3 meters ahead me.

I bought some plasters and some medicine from the pharmacy and went into the toilet. As I opened the water tap, I started to cry again. And the pain on my palm started to hurt slowly. My fingers caressed my palm gently. Then, I washed the blood using water. As the water low fast, and it's hurting my wound, I turned off the water and let out a heavy sigh.

Suddenly, I caught my reflection on the mirror in front of me. That Park Jimin in the mirror looks awful. I hate him. He looks lonely, pitiful and lifeless. Anger slowly gets the opportunity to control me and my head were full of madness.

"AAARRRRGGGHHHH!!!" I finally let out. With a single punch to the mirror, I felt safe. It seems like the pitiful Jimin was gone. And it felt good to see the mirror was scattered.

Out of nowhere, a girl with medium-length brown hair barged into the toilet. Well, I could say, men's toilet.

"Hey! What are you doing?!"