treinta y dos | justicia

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Translation for Spanish words
used in this chapter —

Justicia — justice
Niño — boy
por Dios — by God
Guardias — guards


Jeon Jungkook had not uttered a single word since the confrontation.

One more second inside the dining room and he ran.

Ran until he whirled past the nurse and nearly set her falling, ran until his feet stepped before his bedroom door. Ran inside, slammed it shut and sagged upon the old wood.

A haggard breath shuddered out of him, eyes closing.

Bastardo, bastardo, bastardo—

He slid down upon his carpet, till his knees touched his chest and felt limp. Standing seemed far too big a challenge.

The words kept ringing in his head. Like a sick ritual, Jimin's words circled in his mind, and he could not let them go.

Bastardo, bastardo,


This is what he was. What he was for so long, but was too egoistic, too self absorbed, too selfish to understand.

And look what had happened. His tree of conceit had come crashing down, with Park Jimin holding the axe.

And that axe is hell bent on cutting him into little pieces.

The worst part was, that in all this chaos, Jungkook wished Jimin had fulfilled the job, and finished him.

He wouldn't be feeling so horrific now.


Sleep is never rewarded to the guilty.

That is why Jungkook stayed still in the exact same position he was the moment he entered the room for the whole night. And the whole morning and afternoon.

Numb. His senses were lost, his feelings seemed non-existent, and his will to live was crushed under the hands of his ex best friend.

"Chico, come down!"

Even his Mamá couldn't lighten his weighted spirits. A woman so prone to his moods was unable to cheer him up.

"Jungkook, mi niño, please come down, I'm worried!"

He did not listen. Not because he did not want to, but because his mouth parted only to have no sound come out.

Light thudding on the stairs triggered his ears into listening in. Footsteps approached his door, and a soft knock on the door caused him to jerk upright.

He turned around, but did not stand. Did not say a word.


Dios Mio. That's not Mamá.

No, the voice, usually harder than the nurse, was much softer. Like a sweet lullaby to his ears.

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