Dream of Color

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"Jungkook, come on," said a man in white as he sat on a chair next to Jungkooks bed. It was his speech therapist. His least favorite of all the people in white. Jungkook despised him.

He was observing Jungkook with Taehyung yesterday. He saw the boy talk and was once again trying to get him to say something, knowing he could.

Jungkook was curled into the corner of his bed against the wall, clutching a pillow into his chest. He stared at this man blankly, listening but not responding. Not giving him what he wants.

"I know you can talk," he continued, "I saw you talk to that boy yesterday. I'm not going to let 10 years of my career be wasted because of you."

Still, no response. The man in white leaned over the bed and softened his voice, though still spoke through gritted teeth.

"You know, I have a family at home. I'm not going to let you ruin my whole career because you won't open your Goddamned mouth."

Nothing. If there was one thing Jungkook still had throughout the agonizing years in the institution, it was his pride. He refused to say a word. He locked his eyes with the man in whites icy blue ones. He stared straight into them without blinking. It made the man in white tense up by the second.

Then suddenly, the collar of Jungkooks shirt was taken between two large hands and he was shoved against the wall.

"SAY SOMETHING!"

Jungkook stayed silent for a bit longer. Thinking, contemplating, making the man suffer even more.

A hand collided with Jungkooks face but he only felt coarse skin gently pat his cheek. Jungkook matched his gaze with the man again... And finally spoke.

"Now what good is that gonna do you?"

Before the man could say anything, he was taken out of the room and Jungkook stood with his poor, slumped over posture. His hair hanging just barely over his eyes.

He laid back down in his bed as more people in white entered his room.

Meds.

One after another pill was taken. 18 in total. A weekly injection and a monthly blood draw also took place, causing him to feel light headed. But of course, being high on all of the drugs, he didn't want to lay down and do nothing.

Jungkook stood up and lazily walked laps around the room. It was after all of the medical things took place when he really did seem like a mentally ill patient.

He stood up on his bed and jumped off of it. Falling to the soft floor that kept him from breaking his bones.

He went to the middle of the room and spun in circles until he was so dizzy he collapsed.

He undressed himself and laid in the floor, enjoying the feeling of plush on his naked body.

It was at this point when the people in white came to intervene, putting his clothes back on him and tucking him into his bed for a much needed nap. He didn't complain, although, with drugs flowing through his blood, he imagined things far too extraordinary to fall asleep. They were things Jungkook himself couldn't understand. A dream he couldn't interpret. It was like he was having an out of body experience inside his head.

There was grass, something he had never felt on his own skin. A big blue sky with birds scattered in small black silhouettes. Jungkook laid in a meadow amidst the small creatures the roam around him, wind tickled his cheeks as he slowly closed his eyes.

Playing in the background was his song that he wrote from memory on that beaten up keyboard in the rec room. The ballad played its soulful melody, Jungkook swaying to the slow beat, moving his fingers along with the repeating sixteenth notes.

Jungkook reached into his pocket, finding a shard of a broken mirror. He looked into the reflection to see himself. His eyes were bright and his face was blushed with pink.

He held out his arm and held the shard to his tan skin. He cut three horizontal lines into his forearm, feeling nothing but smooth glass against his skin.

Pouring out from the cuts were fluorescent colored liquid. A viscosity matching that of blood but much more intriguing. Jungkook watched in awe as the colors flowed over his arm and dripped down on to his white clothing, covering it in rainbow.

Satisfied with the beauty of the colors, Jungkook slashed another cut into his arm. More and more color fell onto the fabric of his shirt, creating abstract designs that were so pleasing to Jungkooks dark eyes.

He then dropped the glass and wiped his hand along his opened wounds, so that his hand was covered in different hues. He smeared it across his face, adding color to his forehead and cheeks. Then, he wiped the rest of the colors from the cuts onto his shirt, completely covering the negative space with bright and vibrant colors.

Jungkook laid back down in the tall grass and smiled. He breathed in the fresh air, a foreign scent but pleasing to say the least. He squinted from the warm sun in his eyes.

His sad-sounding ballad had turned in to light and cheery dance. Bouncing eighth notes and playful melodies. This world was something he couldn't explain. Maybe this is what it was really like outside of the white, cinder block walls. Curiosity was a virtue to him. Wondering was all he had. Discovering wasn't an option so imagining was all he could do. And imagine he did.

He was suddenly woken by a woman in white who told Jungkook it was time for dinner.

He looked down at his left arm. A white bandage was taped to his hand. White clothing ordained his body. White walls, white ceilings, white floors. White. Even the woman's hair was white. Everything was white. There was no more color, no more skies or meadows, or birds.

Just this goddamned color white.

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I'm dedicating this chapter to Yesmina because she nagged me today to get this uploaded.

Anyways, I really like this chapter. It was fun to write.

I'll update again soon.

Goodnight~

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