Jeon Jungkook had always been different different. When asked to draw a picture of his favourite food, his carers were left horrified to find he had drawn a pig with it's head cut off. The image was bloody and dark, not sparing a single detail. Jungkook saw no wrong in it. His favourite food was pork. Pork was a pig right?
During nap times, carers would find him playing with toy screwdrivers. He'd run them up and down his skin as he'd sing to himself in the corner. After weeks of continuing this abnormality his parents had to be called. They drew the line after Jungkook smashed a window. When asked why he had done such a thing - getting glass in his arm, he shrugged, playing with his bandages and replying, "I wanted to see what pain felt like." Then he smiled, pressing down on his wounds as the carers pulled on his limbs to hold him down. „I liked it."
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「24|07|2001」
Jungkook was isolated from the outside world. His parents locked him away and would only bring him from his room when psychiatrists and other mixtures of doctors would come to see him. He found the talks boring, usually getting distracted. Mostly, he was a good child. He listened when spoken to, was well mannered, never stepped out of line, and always respected other people; but never himself.
„Kookie baby," Sohyeon whispered, letting her knuckles rest against the doorframe as she watched her beloved son read under the tiny lamp he kept beside his window. „Dinner's ready, it's your favourite."
„Pig?" Jungkook spoke up, looking towards his mother with new found energy. He shut the book promptly, placing it back in it's place. He wiped his pants to make sure nothing made him look dirty before standing in front of his mother, eyes sparkling with the thrill of leaving his room to talk to people.
„Pork, baby, it's called pork." Jungkook's smile fell, his eyes losing that brilliant light as they bedimmed to a form of sadness. His mother used that disapproving tone he hated.
„I'm sorry." He sniffled, stepping away from her and toiling the hem of his shirt, refusing to raise his head.
„Oh baby, it's alright." Sohyeon spoke gently, tugging on the boy's shoulders and wrapping her arms around his frame. „You are just confused. Never be sorry, okay?" Jungkook nodded obediently, repeating the phrase to himself: never be sorry. „Come on, daddy's home early, he came home as a special surprise for you. And he brought company." In seconds the light returned to his eyes and Jungkook was running down the hallway, dragging his stuffed bunny behind him as he stormed into the dining area, looking around in awe.
People filled the setting, creating a warm and tranquil atmosphere that he dearly missed. It left a wide and pleasant smile on the four year old's generally unmoving expression. Jungkook had learnt to hide his emotions, because no one understood how he truly felt when he showed them. Misconception was all they saw, taking his excitement for anger and aggressive outbursts, or his sadness for being shy and rude.
„Kookie, look, lots of people." He whispered slowly, bringing the bunny to his chest and squeezing it tight, twisting from side to side as he waited to be invited to the table. „New people..." Before he could continue to bask in the new rush of adrenaline, his arm was tugged on as his mother bent down to kiss his cheek.
„Baby, come sit beside Yugyeom, he is Mr and Mrs Kim's son." Jungkook peaked above the table, scanning the people until he saw a boy his age stuffing his face with a sweet smelling meat that had Jungkook jumping in a bubbly rush of energy. His mother guided him, pulling out a seat and letting him slip into it. He sat, watching the boy's dark hair glow orange under the vivacious warm hues of the lighting.
„My name is Jeon Jungkook." He announced politely, waiting for the boy to answer. He did not. Instead he ignored and watched his parents talk, fully aware he was being spoken to. „Jeon Jungkook," he repeated, beginning to feel angry when the boy refused to even look at him. So he did the only rational thing his mind could think of as a solution. He snatched up the fork from Yugyeom's hand and slammed the four separated spikes deep into the surface of the table.
Silence fell over the room, shocked eyes turning to stare at the boy who looked up at his mother in fright. „I didn't -" his words got caught in his throat as a sob made it's way up first. He tugged his knees to his chest and began to cry into them as the silence around him stayed. At first, nobody dared move, all fixed on the utensil dug deep into the wooden tabletop. Then Yugyeom turned to look at him sobbing shamefully into his body, shoulders trembling with each new wave of cries.
„Jeon Jungkook." He spoke up tenderly, repeating the name like he had heard it, shuffling around so he faced him. Then he leant in, wrapping nimble fingers around the pale wrist that held a hand to Jungkook's mouth. He pulled it away, and brought Jungkook into a soft hug, a hug that immediately began to soften his distraught outburst. „Kookie?" Yugyeom suggested with a gentle smile, using the corners of his sleeves to wipe away the tears that slipped down the boy's cheeks.
„Jungkook, please remove the cutlery from the table." Shiwoo spoke calmly, ignoring the worried glance given by his wife. Jungkook turned to his father, finishing off what Yugyeom had started, stiffening himself as he leaned over and tugged at the handle of the fork until it jolted him backwards and was removed from the hard surface. He stayed in his seat, fiddling with it in silence, head lowered ashamedly.
„Shiwoo..."
„Silence, please." Sohyeon followed her husband's request, sitting back and watching her son warily. „Son." Jungkook looked up, chewing his cherry coloured lip and trying not to cry again. „Why are you angry?" It was a calm question, that helped soothe the boy's anxiety. Turning to look at Yugyeom sitting by his side, he spoke slowly,
„Yugum was ignoring me." Mrs Kim smiled at the pronunciation of her son's name. „I don't know why..." he feebly placed the fork back on the table, swinging his legs over the chair and slipping off. Without asking for permission to leave the table he ran off, the distant sound of a door slamming just being heard.
„Shiwoo, you need to be gentle with him."
„He could have hurt someone." Yugyeom watched the two argue, then turned to where the boy had run off to. He looked back towards his parents who also seemed concerned for the married couple of seven years now heatedly arguing about whether or not their son deserved mercy.
„You may leave, Yugyeom." Nodding slowly, without a word, he followed Jungkook's actions, walking lightly down the corridor and stopping at the door he'd seen shut so aggressively.
„Kookie?" He called out, knocking twice, he heard rustling and muffled sobs. Then he stepped back as the door opened, revealing the boy wrapped up in a fluffy pink blanket, clutching his stuffed bunny tight.
„Yes?" He whispered, hiding behind the bunny as if pretending it were talking and not him.
„Are you sad?" Jungkook nodded, turning around and waddling over to his bed. Yugyeom followed, looking up at the walls to see a range of drawings. Most of them consisted of the colour red. More specifically blood. The pictures looked like they had been ripped down multiples times, but also looked to be carefully taped up. A fight had come from them being there. „What are they?" He asked, looking closely at one in particular. It was of a boy who wore similar clothes to the one now watching cautiously from beneath his blanket, eyes alert and frightened. Will he yell like they did?
„Drawings. I sleep better," He mumbled, once again shoving the bunny forward. The boy in the picture held what resembled a knife, and the knife was coloured in red. Other people were in the picture, all either on their side or strung from the top of the page, dressed in red.
„What ... Where did you get the ideas?"
„My head." Jungkook bit his lip, shrinking back into the blanket when Yugyeom turned to stare at him. Don't hurt me. I won't control it if you do. Instead, the boy smiled, approaching and sitting down beside him on the bed. „Can we be friends? I have never had a friend." Yugyeom took one last look at the drawings, then back at the smartly dressed, kind faced boy who had created them. He watched his eyes shift with uncertainty as he gripped his stuffed toy tight. Those eyes were filled with loneliness and misery, pleading silently for company.
„Okay."
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「25|07|2001」
"Give them back!" Impulsive screams reverberated off the deep grey walls that kept the four year old sealed off from the world that he saw to be full of evil. A world where only the bad things mattered, and all good was pushed to the side. He wasn't far off, and that was what scared his parents so much. That this untainted child who should be at a daycare playing in a sandpit and crying because another child threw sand at him, was instead screaming in outrage because his mother forbade him in drawing murder.
„No! I will not let you continue this any more! This scares me Jungkook!" His mother yelled back, standing by his door with his packet of neatly sharpened and orderly pencils clutched in her right hand, tremors keeping the hold unsteady.
„I want to draw!" Jungkook didn't know how to react to his mother's sudden outbursts that he would only expect from his father. He trusted his mother to help him, to make his life easier. She was the one to give him the smallest amount of freedom without being put in chains and being controlled. She broke that trust by confiscating his only way of venting the thoughts that occurred in his mind. Thoughts he didn't understand, but knew were dangerous and evil. „Please let me draw." He fell to his knees at his mother's feet, burying his face into the palms of his hands. „I need to draw."
„What you draw is wrong, baby. It is violent and hurts people."
„What I think is badder," Jungkook sobbed, finding familiarity in the sudden rush of adrenaline and blood that went towards his head. He looked down to see he was shaking, then he looked up at his mother who also noticed.
„Baby, what's wrong?" Jungkook could only shake his head, pushing himself back as he fell to the ground. Everything had gone out of focus, blurring any detail.
„Don't..." he pleaded in a small, weak voice, breathing heavy from his rising fury. „I want to be alone." Sohyun stepped forward slightly, face contorted in panic. She tried to help, but fell back when it ended in Jungkook screaming at her. He scrambled to his feet, backing up against his bed and continuing to release a shrill cry of defence.
„Jungkook please!" Sohyun cried out pleadingly, too scared to even step towards her own son as he emitted continuous, low screams. „Tell me what's wrong so I can help you." She stood rigid in horror, feet stuck in their place as she watched her son's body fall to the floor. Eyes of deep red pooling with fear and guilt. Her mouth was open, trying to release something, anything. But there was nothing to say as Jungkook released a primal, frightened whisper.
„I ... can't."
-
Jungkook kept the atmosphere silent. No one dared to speak in the confined space of their family car.Family was a hard word to use for the three, who were falling apart from the child's temper and behaviour. They drove with no conversation or music, the only noise that broke that sound of emptiness being the rattling of the angel key ring hanging from the rear-view mirror.
Sohyun watched her son for most of the period. He didn't veer his eyes from the window once, small hands folded in his lap as his head fell back against the car seat his body only just fitted in. Jungkook was small for his age, underweight and scrawny. No matter what his parents fed him his body never seemed to grow.
His fingers circled the hospital band on his wrist, running his fingers beneath it and over it gently. Not once did he shift his gaze to see what he was doing. Sohyeon wanted to say something. She wanted to break down the wall and comfort him. But what could she say? They left the third hospital of the month in despair. Only hearing the words: your child is insane.
„I'm not..." Still refusing to cast his stare towards his mother, he began to express his queries holding him. „Mama, what is 'in same'?" Sohyun didn't answer, shifting to stare at her husband who held a pained, yet hard expression, trying to hide his suffering.
„Insane, baby." She corrected weakly, not able to continue.
„Am I? The man sounded angry. Is it bad?"
„No, you are not insane. The man didn't know what he was saying." Jungkook swallowed rather forcefully, suddenly turning away from the window and looking towards the ground. „Baby, please don't be upset, we will fix this."
„You can't." Jungkook responded, pulling at his short fingers before grabbing his bunny from beside him, pulling it to his chest and pressing his face into the smell he gained comfort from. Sohyun watched through forlorn eyes, unsure of what to say. „They don't let me stop." It confused her, to hear him speak in third person as if he were talking about someone else.
„They? Baby who are you talking about?" She didn't get a response. His head was tucked against his chest, stubby fingers clutching his bunnies neck rather tightly. Sohyun swallowed her concerns, realising the child had drifted into a slumber.
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「30|07|2001」
Jungkook stood proud and enthralled by his successful attempts at building a sandcastle from dirt. Being careful not to bump the bucket shaped tower, he jumped to his feet and ran up to his father who was sitting by the barbecue with a number of his colleagues.
„Papa! Come and see what I made!" His excitement caught the attention of the guests, each turning to smile at him in a welcoming manner. He immediately felt self-conscious as he'd never had so many big people stare at him. Let alone even be in the same room as them. Silence took over him as he began to gander at his favourite polished shoes.
„Jungkook, I am a little busy right now. Can it wait?" Trying to hide his disappointed expression, he nodded obediently before murmuring a small yes to his father before spinning on his heels and trotting off. He skipped along the path down the centre of the small garden outside their city apartment. It was just enough for Jungkook to find something creative without going out of sight of his watchful parents.
Unaware of his surroundings, he kept his head up, looking towards the sky in awe. It was rare for him to see the sun shining brilliantly on a day like it was. Most often he'd be cooped up inside, his mother at work and father unable to let him seek adventure. This wanderlust dulled the rest of his senses, and he failed to catch the edge of the garden bed, stumbling forward before face planting into the dirt. He felt a sharp pain shoot up his nose and began to cry out in distress. He rolled onto his side and screamed hysterically until he heard footsteps. Clutching his nose as blood smeared his lips and chin, he looked up to see a stranger. Not his father, not even someone he knew. This man his father worked with knelt down beside him and tugged gently at his hands.
„My papa..." he cried, blood spluttering from his mouth as he spoke, voice croaky and clogged. What should've been a metallic taste on his tongue, was replaced with a sweet and almost sugary taste. It sparked up something in his brain that soothed his pain and brought a new sensation to his body. A positive one.
„Shiwoo has something important he needs to do. I'll take care of you, it's okay." Jungkook frowned, puffing out his cheeks and shaking his head, trying to express that he did not approve of the idea.
„But what about me?" He whispered, licking his lip and pushing himself up, looking down at his now crushed castle. Tears welled up in his already stinging eyes, feeling distraught that his father didn't see his achievements. „Am I not important?!" He didn't know what the word meant, but surely it meant his father loved him more. Right? He was important?
„Of course you are important. You mean the world to your father, he is just busy." That broke his heart to hear those words come from a stranger. To hear a series of words that when looked at from afar meant nothing more than your father has better things to do than worry about you.
From where Jungkook laid in the dirt with blood tainting his skin, he could see his father. Could see him opening up a beer bottle and downing it's contents in pure bliss. Could see his happy smile and how he was of the worry he displayed constantly. Jungkook could feel his own body tense with pain and misery, tears crawling down his cheeks and soaking his pastel blue shirt clear signs of sadness.
He was not happy. Yet no one cared.
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「24|08|2001」
„It has been so long!" Hugs and friendly kisses were shared between mothers and firm handshakes between fathers. The two boys stared at each other, silent. It had been a month since the Kims had visited. Jungkook almost forgot about them. But now seeing his friend again, he smiled, not hesitating to rush forward and crush Yugyeom in a hug. He buried his face into his chest and mumbled a muffled,
„Hellow Gummie." A smile spread across Yugyeom's placid face. Immediately he hugged back, wrapping his arms tight, giggling when he felt his breath against his neck.
„Kookie." They almost instantly pulled apart when coos and chuckles came from the parents looming above them. Jungkook kept his head down, fisting his shirt whilst exhaling slowly, cheeks and ears flushed with a deep rose colour. It made his pale complexion glow. „You're cute, Kookie." Yugyeom whispered in his ear, tugging on his hand and running off. His parents smiled warmly at the flustered expression Jungkook had.
„'m not Gummie," He tried to say, tugging Yugyeom to a stop when he headed for the back door. „Not allowed..." He explained when Yugyeom gave him a questioning glance. He nodded, letting Jungkook guide him to the room where he'd first talked to the boy. The room was dark, they stepped inside of the dim room, curtains drawn together tight and light extinguished.
„Why it is so dark?" Yugyeom asked out of curiosity, shuffling forward to find the bed, crawling onto it and crossing his legs politely, waiting for the light to flicker on. It did not. Jungkook climbed up the side of his bed, mirroring Yugyeom's position, shifting slightly so they were perfectly aligned. „The light, Kookie." Even if he could only just make out the gentle features of Jungkook's face, he saw the slow shake of his head that told him no.
„I have a secret that you can't see." He shut his mouth for a moment, biting his lip carefully before shifting closer. He slipped his hand forward so it rested over Yugyeom's before pulling himself into an embrace. Yugyeom's brow furrowed, eyes screwed up in confusion as Jungkook settled in his lap, eyes wandering the room.
All of his friends were close with him. They held hands a lot, but he'd never cuddled anyone before. Nevertheless, here Jungkook was, arms wrapped around his neck and head resting against his shoulder. Yugyeom stayed silent. It felt odd, but it made him happy. His mother hugged him often, but he'd never felt this way before. Never felt his stomach churn and head spin. Was he sick? Looking down when an almost silent sniffle broke his thoughts, he noticed Jungkook had tears running down his puffy cheeks.
„Kookie? What's wrong?" Jungkook didn't answer, only burying himself into his friend's embrace. Yugyeom tried to find something that could cheer him up, not wanting to see him sad. He reached for the bunny toy discarded at the end of the bed, bringing it up to his chest. „Your bunny will make you happy, right?"
„No."
„Then what will?" Jungkook sighed deeply, it sounded sorrowful, regretful. Emotions that shouldn't be so strong in such a young child. „Kookie, I can go get your mummy..."
„No. I do not wanna hear her yell again." Yugyeom didn't understand. So he tried to pry Jungkook off of him by tickling his sides. He squealedm his body doing some sort of contortion as he fell back on the bed, breathing heavy. Yugyeom continued wriggling his fingers against his sides, laughing along with the boy as they began to wrestle on the bed. Jungkook grabbed at his waist, using his strength to push the boy back and climb on top of him, now winning as he laughed and cheered in victory. Yugyeom gave a grin, content with the smile visible on Jungkook's face in the dark room. He looked to his side, noticing a lamp. Without Jungkook noticing, he leaned over and switched it on, illuminating the room and his vision.
The sudden burst of light took Jungkook by surprise as he pulled back in alarm. A small gasp coming from his throat as his head snapped to a mess on the floor. The attention drew Yugyeom's towards it as well. Shivers ran up his spine when he saw the bloody mess. He turned back to the boy who couldn't speak, throat blocked by a lump. His stomach was doing flips whilst he could only stare at the worried expression on his friend's face.
„Why ... Why is there red stuff?" He finally managed to speak, Jungkook not having found his voice yet. Yugyeom ran his hand over Jungkook's small hands, only now noticing the ironman bandaids on majority of his fingers. „Kookie you hurt yourself." He gushed at the sight, bringing the boy closer and kissing his fingers like his mother did with his injuries. It didn't last long before he was pulling away, head lowered ashamedly and hands in fists, refusing to let Yugyeom see.
„You do not ... Mama took away my pencils. So I ..." He didn't continue speaking, staring down at his drawings on paper. Bloody ink created a violent and evil story. Yugyeom stood up with a rather sudden jerk, eyes glued to the dirty blade shining in the light.
„Is that the secret?" He asked, stepping towards the door. Jungkook's mouth fell open as he jumped to his feet and pulled on Yugyeom's shirt, keeping him from leaving the room, pushing him to the wall and locking him there. Panic was evident behind his dark and dilated pupils. His face seemed more malicious than earlier.
„Do not tell anyone." He growled, voice low and dangerous. Yugyeom had never seen him like this, it scared him. „Mama will be mad and Papa will hit me. You cannot tell them." As Yugyeom tried to push back against the boy his grip tightened. Eyes bedimmed to a gloomy red. Jungkook's fingernails began to press against the soft skin of the boy beneath him as he whimpered softly.
„I will not." Yugyeom cried, shrinking smaller until he was curled up in a ball on the floor. Jungkook stepped back, releasing a breath as he felt the rush leave him. Guilt spread through him as his friend cried weakly on the floor, calling out to his mother. Hearing footsteps approach, he scooped up his drawings and the sharp blade he'd used, shoving them under his bed and climbing out of sight with them. His breath was shallow as the door opened and the main light turned on.
„Honey! What's wrong?!" Mrs Kim's voice rang out throughout the room along with Yugyeom's nasal cries. Jungkook crawled further back under the bed until he was in the very centre, out of reach and safe. He heard the boy's mother curse and use foul language. She lifted her child up and Jungkook watched her red heels make their way across the room to his bedside table, turning off both lights to leave the room in darkness.
„Gummie, I am sorry..."
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