Scars - BTS (Jungkook werewolf ff) (On Hold)

Chapter 32: Solution?

Until he apprehended and appreciated his love for her, did she not realize her abandoned origin.

Previously:

She had hurt him on his birthday . . .

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Chapter 32: Solution?

Sam's POV

You know that feeling when your in math class and you fortuitously drop your pencil and bend down to grab it, but by the time you sit your bottom back in your seat and look up at the once almost spotless board, it's completely filled with seemingly random numerical digits sprinkled with variables, angles and shapes? That's precisely how my mind felt at the moment.

I couldn't recollect a single deed of mine in the past, god knows how many minutes. There were occasional vicious pictures that floated around my mind, but other than that, I was on my own trying to find my way out of an attempted murder case. But the bloody knife in my hand and the wounded guys intensely staring down at me clarified it all.

Guilt. It's a feeling that everyone loathes. And to my own unexplainable cynicism, I happen to experience the same feeling. It just begins to bubble up deep in the pit of the stomach and bubbles its way upward until it creates a lump in the throat, stripping the ability of the voice to let out the faintest of sounds. That's indubitably what my body was feeling. And to make me feel a deeper extent of remorse, it was Jungkook's birthday. It was my mate's birthday!!

That's when thoughts like jumping off the cliff, or digging up my own grave and hiding in it, or even walking into quick-sand seemed a better idea than being scrutinized under their gazes like a microorganism under the eye of a microscope.

I couldn't bear the silence anymore. I couldn't sit there idly dealing with the regret my mind felt and the physical pain my body felt. I wanted to run. I wanted to run far away. I wanted to get away from all their gazes and hide. I just . . . I was ashamed of myself.

Taking my chance, I pushed my body off the ground with all my might and ran. I ran as if someone's life depended on it. It did. It truly did. All of the boy's lives depended on me. The closer I am to them, the more the voice manipulated me. The more I wanted to see blood. The more I wanted to kill. The more I was lethal. Isn't it hilarious that I was dangerous all along and I never even had the slightest sense of it?

Loud pattering echoed among the hallways. One pair of footsteps I confidently knew were mine, but whose were the other pair that followed my blood-stained footprints? There were heavy steps that brought light creaking moan from the wooden flooring, so it couldn't be any of the girls. It could be anyone of the guys, but judging from the coughing, light growling, and speedy brisk strides, it had to be someone in good shape at the moment. That leaves one possibility. 

Stephen. Jungkook wouldn't run after me. I wouldn't be astonished if Jungkook ran in the opposing direction of mine. Sporadically, Stephen coughed, interrupting the reverberating racing footsteps. Why? I almost choked him to death. I saw it myself. I did it myself. I hurt him myself. I hurt him myself, on his birthday. 

My nose twitched with uneasiness and I sniffled on instinct. The salty water my eyes preferred to pour out when my heart was in pain, pooled and collected at the brim of my eyes. I wouldn't be able to hold myself together much longer. I knew I would break down. That left me with one choice: I had to get to my room before I breakdown. So I ran. I ran carelessly. I couldn't stop to mourn over my injured body. I couldn't cease my motion until I was inside my room.