Weightless| Vkook 💜

Parents| 2

Taehyung's father hasn't ever been a very nice man, always bringing home desperate woman half his age for a good time.

Despite knowing his wife and son are just down the hallway, he's never quiet when he fucks prostitutes.

Maybe he does it because his wife can't move and is practically laying on her death bed, or maybe he does it for the thrill. Either way he's a sick man with all sorts of STDs.

Many nights Taehyung's had to listen to the painful moans of his father and random women.

And many nights he's had to listen to his mother's desperate sobs as her husband cheats on her over and over again.

It's rather surprising that the headboard hasn't broken yet and neither the bed, considering his father uses it for more than sleeping nearly every week.

As much as it might be hard watching your wife starve away in front of your eyes, Mr Kim can't put the blame on her. He has always had a mean streak in him.

First it started off with breaking a few things out of anger, then he actually hit Taehyung's mother.

But ever since she has started starving herself to death, and since Taehyung was born, Mr Kim can't seem to keep control anymore.

Although it's not exactly as if he's trying very hard!

Every Night Taehyung has to lie on a bed of bruises, every toss and turn feels like he's being covered with a blanket of glass. Like cold fingers scratching at his delicate skin, tearing it to shreds.

Taehyung's mother, however, never used to be so insecure. He can remember times where he went to the cinema with his parents buying overpriced popcorn that's overfilling with calories and grease.

But at the age of 5, life went downhill.

She became obsessed with the calories and soon enough she forced her son down the same suicidal path.

Perhaps it's because her husband was cheating on her in their shared bed nearly every night and she wanted to look better for him, or maybe she just went crazy.

Taehyung doesn't know the reason for it and he wouldn't dare ask.

Mrs Kim always used to have a sophisticated elegance about her, her aroura was pure and soft.

But now her smooth wrinkle free face has harsh lines from the bones and her pale lips are tinged ever so slightly blue.

The gentle warmth that comes from within, no longer reflects from her onxy orbs. As if all she's got inside is a gaping hole, free from all weights and calories.

Taehyung really wants to help his mother see the sun again and have the will to live, but she doesn't care for that. She doesn't love him, she just loves losing the calories and seeing her son do the same. But she's still his mother, nothing more, nothing less.

Taehyung really wants his father back, to cuddle him during the storms and to protect him no matter what. But Mr Kim can hardly remember he has a son, unless he wants to use him as a punching bag. But he's still his father, nothing more, nothing less.

All Taehyung's got to comfort him is his metal blade that sparkles in the light of his bathroom.

The sheen of steal that refractors off the cheap, luminescent light bulb. Just like a light at the end of the tunnel.

Cool metal slicing into snow, creating rivers of crimson in its path. Almost pulchritudinous.

The dull grey disembodied blade carving beauty into the chalky white skin, looking like when you add strawberry syrup to milk.

His skin is like a painting, perpendicular rivers of scarlet red over time becoming a meer bump of discoloured skin once again.

Often he has thoughts about ending his life, who wouldn't? Constantly his stomach is screaming at him for food, shredding at his stomach lining like a monster wanting to be set free and the longer he starves himself, the closer he gets to releasing the beast.

But despite his unloving parents who only want him to satisfy their needs, he hasn't found it in himself to do it just yet.

It's not the idea of leaving his loved ones behind that keeps him from the idea, it's the thought of missing out.

Missing out on finding that person who makes living fun and not a chore. Missing out on the warm arms keeping him away from the storm of reality.

He sets himself deadlines although ultimately deep down he knows he won't go through with it.

' just wait until my birthday, I can kill myself then'

' once I have finished my tests, I can kill myself then'

' just wait until I have been shopping, I can kill myself then'

' once I have written a suicide note, I can kill myself then'

But he never does. There's still a part of him inside that doesn't want to leave just yet.

He will endure it, like broken glass he can't reverse he will power on. Because despite feeling dead inside, he's scared that he will find a reason to live.

Dead body's can't bleed, so sometimes Taehyung cuts himself just to remind him of the fact that he's alive.

Alive and breathing.

Moving to this grungy little house with concaving wallpaper and mould inhabited curtains isn't exactly what you would call living the life of luxury, but for Taehyung it's better than where he was before.

In their old home, they lived in a flat at the top of the apartment block. His fear of heights led him to have a panic attack nearly everyday, especially when his father was beating him up as often he was thrown towards the already cracked windows.

At least in this home its only 2 stories. However, nobody will help him when they hear his screams. After all they are living in the dodgy part of Seoul.

However, he's starting a new school today. Hopefully his social anxiety won't make him appear weird.

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A/n: Hey guys. I hope you're enjoying the story. I had a really good chapter written for this part but it got deleted by accident. I swear I nearly cried. But I've managed to recall part of it.

Sorry if it's a bit rushed at the end, I was running out of words as each of my chapters are strictly 1000 words. It's something that I have to do.

Vote, comment and follow me plz and enjoy the rest of the story!