rain [taekook] DISCONTINUED

panic

CHAPTER THIRTEEN// PANIC
Jungkook POV

"You're nothing, absolutely nothing. You shouldn't have even been born, you're a waste of oxygen. You should have died that night instead of your mother."

My terrifying father leans over my trembling body as he spits each harsh word at me furiously. Tears stream down my face as I desperately want him to stop and for me to move away from him but my feet stay planted on the floor. I'm frozen. I can't move. I can't yell for help. I can't do anything.

"You're useless." Another slap.

"You're pathetic." Another hit.

"You're garbage." Another stab to the heart.

"You're nothing." That's the final straw.

I fall to the ground and curl into a tight ball as my disgusting father approaches me. He's about to lay another hand on me when I squeeze my eyes shut and hide my head in my hands.

My eyes shoot open as I jump up from my bed, sweat stains my face as my heart thumps out of my chest. It was a just a dream, correction: nightmare. I sit up from my bed and clutch my throat, I can't catch a breath. Not again, not now.

I jump out of bed and rush towards the bathroom as I scratch at my throat and try to gasp for air as another sob leaves my chapped lips. A tremble takes over my entire body as I collapse on my knees on the cool bathroom floor. I gasp for more air that doesn't reach my lungs. All I can do is cry and pray that it'll end soon.

Each panic attack is always ten times worse than the last, it never gets better it only gets worse. I press my back against the cold tiled floors in an attempt to catch a single breath, hiccups erupt from inside me as I shake continuously. Panic surges through my veins as I don't know what to do. I press the palms of my hands over my eyelids and try to take deep breaths but my sobs shatter each attempt, it feels like my lungs are collapsing.

Tears upon tears fall down my face and onto the floor. I finally give up on being in pain, I stare up at the white ceiling and begin counting down from a hundred--a trick Jimin had taught me if I ever had an attack and he wasn't there. It sounds so stupid but it always works, I begin to countdown and by the time I read twenty-three I'm already starting to take deeper breaths.

...5...4...3...2...1...

I lay flat on the floor and clamp my eyes shut, I hate it, I hate it so much. I stand up on wobbly knees and use the sink for leverage, once I'm on my feet I lean over the sink bowl and stare at myself in the shiny mirror. My reflection's atrocious; messy hair, red swollen eyes, puffy cheeks, black circles under my eyes, and dry lips with cracks that are now dripping with fresh blood.

"You're pathetic," I mutter and lean my face close to the mirror. "You're nothing," another tear falls but I don't break down. "No one loves you." More tears start to fall. I turn my face away from the monstrous mirror as I stumble into the kitchen, I pick up my phone and notice it's 2:00pm, I slept in. I set down my phone just as I hear a knock at the door.

I eye the door suspiciously. Why would anyone be here? Who could possibly want to see me at all? I walk over to the door and peek through the tiny peephole and notice straight brown hair that rests over a tanned face and soft eyes.

Taehyung.

I open the door but leave the bolt and chain locked so he can't come completely in, this confuses him. "Um, hey, Jungkook," he greets and I can see his eyes that are now filled with confusion through the small crack. "W-what are you doing here?" My voice cracks as I speak as I move back and wipe away a falling tear. Don't break down now, not now.

"I was just passing by your place and I was wondering if you wanted to go to the park with me?" He asks, more tears fall down my face. Just breathe, everything will be fine just don't cry. I sniffle and try to think of a response. "Are you okay, Jungkook?" Taehyung suddenly asks, worry clear in his tone. I stutter as I finally let a disgusting sob leave my lips.

"Jungkook?" Taehyung says in a quiet tone, "you can talk to me if something happened, I'll listen," he says and I cry more. He doesn't care for you, no one loves you, you're a waste of space.

"Jungkook," he states seriously and it makes me peek through the crack of the door again. "I'm not leaving until you open this door." I sigh, a quivering breath escapes my dry lips, as I close the door and unlock the bolt as I slowly open it again revealing a worried Taehyung. I stand there, my shoulders slumped, knees weak, dressed in my over sized white t-shirt short shorts as tears gush down my heated face.

I don't know what takes over me as I tackle him into a hug, he doesn't hesitate to hug me back tightly. He shushes me and attempts to stop my tears from falling. "You're alright, you're fine, nothing can hurt you," he mumbles words of encouragement over my shoulder as I burry my face in his chest. After awhile of sweet talking and a lot of rocking back and forth and back patting, I finally calm down.

He walks me over to my leather couch and we both sit down, I tuck my knees into my chest as he turns his body to face me with his legs crossed. "What happened? Please talk to me," he says and I shiver. What if he thinks I'm crazy? What if he leaves like everyone else has in my life? "Please, Jungkook," my mind is telling me to stay quiet but my heart is ready to burst with emotions, pour out my entire story in a collection of words.

So I start.

"Panic attack," I say simply and he nods, knowing I'm not finished yet. "When I was seven me, my mom, and my dad were driving back home on a dark a foggy night. My dad didn't see the pickup truck heading straight towards us, the driver was drunk. After the accident I was in a coma for a little over a week and I-I a-awoke to find out th-that my mother was dead. That was when I had my first panic attack. I had my second when my father became a heavy drinker and I spent many, many nights living in pure fear over the man I once loved." He nods and softly rubs his fingers over the pale skin on my arm in a calming way, I finally snap.

"I'm so weak and useless, I don't deserve to be here. My father's right, I'm the one that should have died in the accident, I would have been better off. Nobody cares for me, nobody loves me. I'm just a stupid fucking kid with too many problems to count and-"

He grasps me into a tight hug but doesn't say anything, I ball into his chest and attempt to calm down again. Here I am, a broken eighteen year old crying into a stranger's embrace, why does this feel so right?

We don't move as the hours pass.