Stand By Me! | Jinkook

9. Healing

Note: Mention of mental and physical abuse ahead.

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Seokjin's POV:

When I was trapped in that room, I lost track of time. I had no idea how long I'd been there-it felt endless, like I'd been swallowed up by darkness. I kept praying that my parents would come, that I'd feel my mother's arms around me, telling me everything was okay. But that moment never came.

He blindfolded me every day and removed it at night, as if it were some kind of twisted game. I heard his footsteps echoing in the silence, his voice telling me, "Don't worry, my little princess. We're going to live happily ever after once we're far away." But his promises felt like lies. Every time he touched me, I felt my skin crawl. I wanted to scream, to pull away, but I was too afraid. He'd given me nothing but water-just enough to keep me alive-and taunted me with promises of food that never came.

One night, he came in angry, his voice a growl. "You think you're something special, don't you? Well, you're right. So you deserve special treatment as well" he sneered as he unbuckled his belt. I felt fear spread through me like ice, paralyzing me. I tried to plead with him, whispering, "Please... please stop." But he ignored me, striking me with the belt again and again. I remember sobbing, clutching my knees to my chest, each blow making me feel smaller, more broken. Eventually, the world faded into black, and I passed out from exhaustion.

Every day followed a cruel pattern: he would come in, start with his sickly sweet voice, touching me, murmuring things that I didn't understand, then turning violent without warning. He wouldn't let me sleep, waking me up every time I tried, as if he wanted to keep me on edge. Each day felt like an eternity, my body bruised and battered, my mind slipping further away.

I kept hoping, every second, that someone would come for me. But no one did. The days blurred together, and eventually, I started to believe that maybe no one cared where I was. I felt abandoned, as if I didn't matter. Hope turned into despair, and I remember thinking that maybe it would be easier if I just... stopped. I was seven years old and already felt like I had nothing left.

One day, I awoke to feel someone stroking my hair. For a second, I thought it was him, and I jerked awake, fear pulsing through me. But bright light hit my eyes, and I shut them tight, disoriented. I felt hands on my shoulders, and a gentle voice saying, "Jinnie, it's okay. You're safe now."

I started screaming, "No! Please, I can't... I want to die!" But then, another voice, softer, familiar-"Jinnie, baby, it's me. It's your mom. You're safe, sweetheart. You're with us now."

The panic subsided as I recognized my mother's voice. Slowly, I opened my eyes, blinking against the light, and saw them. My parents, standing over me, worry etched into their faces. I burst into tears, the fear and relief crashing over me all at once. My mother wrapped her arms around me, whispering, "We're here, baby. We're not going anywhere."

We stayed like that for what felt like hours, holding each other. For the first time in so long, I felt safe. Exhaustion took over, and I passed out in their arms.

Later, I learned the police had found me in the basement of an abandoned house. I was there for five days. They said I was covered in blood and dirt, so still they thought I was dead at first. The man who took me was never found. Even though I was back with my family, I felt like I'd left pieces of myself in that dark room, pieces that I'd never get back.

In the months that followed, I hardly spoke. I couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, and every night I'd wake up crying, terrified that he'd come for me. I'd sit in my room, shivering with fear, refusing to be alone. I felt trapped in a constant cycle of nightmares and panic attacks, each one dragging me back to that room.

Therapy became my new routine, every other day, but it took time. At first, I barely spoke in sessions, too afraid to relive what had happened. But slowly, with my family's love and the guidance of my therapist, I began to open up. Piece by piece, I worked through the pain. I was having Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), Separation Anxiety Disorder, Depression, Attachment issues, and the constant nightmares. Every session felt like climbing a mountain, but with each step, I got a little stronger.

When high school started, I was ready to face the world again. I transferred out of homeschooling and started going to physical school. That's where I met Hoseok. He had this bright, infectious energy that made people want to be around him. He became my first real friend since... everything.

One day, during lunch, he threw his arm around me, grinning. "Hey, Seokjin, you ever think about joining the dance club?"

I laughed, shaking my head. "You've seen me dance. I'd just embarrass myself."

"Nonsense," he said, giving me a little shove. "You just need a little more sunshine in your life." And with Hoseok around, I actually started to believe that.

Then, I met Jungkook. He was everything I hadn't dared to hope for-kind, patient, and understanding. Being with him felt like a dream. We started dating, and for the first time, I felt... loved, like I was whole again.

One day, we had a small argument, and he didn't text me for the whole day. The next day, I saw him in class, laughing with another girl. My heart sank, and I felt like the floor had been ripped out from under me. I turned and ran to the bathroom, my breaths coming in short, panicked gasps. He left me. Just like that. I sank to the floor, clutching my knees, trying to breathe, but nothing was working. I felt like I was drowning.

Suddenly, everything went black. When I opened my eyes, I was lying in the school clinic, Jungkook sitting beside me, looking as if he'd been crying.

"Seokjin," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. The second he saw my eyes open, he pulled me into his arms. "I'm so sorry. Really, really sorry. Please, forgive me, baby"

I clung to him, my voice breaking. "Please don't go. I can't... I can't live without you."

He pressed a kiss to my cheek, whispering, "I promise, Seokjin. I'm not going anywhere. I'm so sorry. I thought... I thought if I made you jealous, you'd come talk to me first. I was an idiot. I'm never going to do that again. You're all I want."

I looked at him, tears in my eyes, and managed a small, shaky smile. He wiped my tears away, his own eyes red, and he held me close.

From that day on, I knew I could trust him, and he stayed by my side, helping me through the dark times. He became my safe place, my home. And, with Jungkook, I finally started to believe that I could heal, that there was still love and light left in the world for me.