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On Look! Something to read-

Uh....you can ignore this chapter...It's just a book I'm working on...I just wanted to put it here cause me want to. So yeah...XD

Ps. This a BTS FF...The chapter is called: Roadkill.
So ignore this if you'd like!

        Month: May

                                       우유 달

JUNGKOOK -

THE CORN WAS TALKING TO HIM AGAIN.

Warm winter and a balmy spring in Gap of Seoul, everyone with a field and a taste for corn had plowed and planted earlier then they have ever done before.

On the last day of his junior year, exactly two months after his life had bursted like a fireball, Jungkook slowly walked home from his bus stop past plants that reached up to his waist. It was his favorite part of the afternoon...or it should have been: the sun shining bright and hot in the blue sky, the plants twitching their long green fingers.

Corn could grow inches in a single day; if you listened, you could hear it grow. Jungkook caught the familiar whisper it would say....here, here, here....and wished it would shut up.

His friend Namjoon would definitely agree. Namjoon hated the corn, said the plants seemed . . . Alive. Jungkook reminded him that, duh, of course the corn was alive, all plants are alive, Namjoon replied that the corn sounded alive alive.

As if it wasn't just growing, it was ripping itself out of the soil and sneaking round onits skinny white roots. Scarecrows weren't made to scare the crows, they were made to scare the corn. It was enough to give someone nightmares. Otherwise, why would so many horror movies have cornfields in them?

Jungkook had enough nightmares, but they weren't about cornfields. His dreams used to be filled with typical stuff: getting naked with this girl or that one. Hair looking like an actual coconut. Showing up to class wearing nothing but his yellow jacket and his boxers that are stripped in many colors. Jumping so high not even a kangaroo could keep up.

Now? He couldn't close his eyes without seeing Jimin's small paw like hands slapping at fogged glass, the gleaming black Ford truck swallowed up by the gathering dark.

He didn't sleep if he could help it. And he didn't even bother to listen to the corn anymore. Why should he, when it wouldn't stop lying?

Sweat prickled on his scalp, he stopped to switch his backpack from one shoulder to the other. He lifted his head, cornfield stretched out for miles, but standing here, on a hazy back rode in South Korea, you wouldn't know it. The pavement in front of Jungkook ended in a wall of sky, as if it was sliced off by the swing of a scythe.

He would of stood there for a while, considering the cutaway and the perfect metaphor it was, of a murder of black crows hadn't shown up, cawing their small stupid heads off.

Jungkook was not impressed. "What are you fools supposed to be? Set decoration?"

Those stupid birds will pluck your eyes out before they peck you to death, Namjoon would have told him. Haven't you seen Hitchcock? But Jungkook never really liked movies, and thought those crows were nothing but a bunch of jokers and thieves.

That's what he called them. "Jokers."

The crows said, "Coward!" They cackled and flapped, sun shining blue on their glossy wings, beaks sharp as hay hooks.

Okay maybe Namjoon had a point.

Jungkook kept walking, feet heavy in the heat. His temples began to throb, sandy eyelids scratching his corneas. If he spoke, his voice would creak like an old door the same way Hoseok's did when he got sick in the winter, and on those days he would look like he chucked a whole bottle of drugged pills. He would yammer about his dogs when they were little pups, or how his dimples shined brighter then the sun, or the time he used to play with sticks and stones when was just a little boy.