he walked the dawn early streets of seoul, an always busy city.
jungkook hated it.
the city was so selfish.
everyone in it self absorbed with themselves.
time was the master to all ; everyone rushing.
always rushing.
jungkook hated the rush.
he hated the loud constant blares of traffic, he especially daunted at the groups of happy, privileged individuals.
the city,
it only reminded him of the level of fucked up his life really was.
how fucked up
he was.
his feet dragged as he entered the shabby run down all too familiar building.
he took a rickety flight of stairs to the third floor.
once upon arriving at his door, he simply pushed the deteriorating front door.
the lock and handle already broken for months after his 'father' caught him messing with two dudes in their 'home' as he pushed jungkook out the front door.
'don't come back. you're trash to me.'
the harsh words lost its effect.
he was welcomed 'home' by the scent of cigarettes, alcohol and a mix of other rotten smell.
his dead beat of a mother shot out of her mind with drugs on the torn sofa, he walked over to the repetitive scene of her there.
he cautiously brought up a blanket to cover her over exposed body.
the vile dirty blanket ripped at the seams.
"everything in this house is torn."
+ + +
