Broken Wings } TaeGi

broken 3

Broken 3

{Attention; Rape}

Yoongi POV

It was almost dark, only the small lamp on his - long time unused - working desk gave light to his narrow room. The voices in my head were screaming. And whispering. Always in turns. My heart was racing - still, even after years and years enduring all of this.

His breath close to my face reeked of alcohol and unbrushed teeth. I felt his rough fingers touching all over my bare, pale body, that was covered with scars. Abrasively. I wanted to scream, just like everytime, but I knew that no one would hear me anyway. His beard stubbles were unpleasantly scratching along my skin.

Why? No matter how often I asked myself that question my past life, I haven't found an answer yet. Probably I would never find one.

I tried to hold back my tears - I knew, if I'd cry, he'd get even more aggressive. I moaned. A painful moan as he was turning me roughly and as he was pulling my hair with a strong grab.

Almost every fucking day - it was like this. Rape. Abuse. I was used to that.

I had nobody to talk to - my therapist wasn't a supportive crutch. No. He even makes it worse every single hour I had to spend in that damn white room. The only place I hated even more was my dad's home office.

The floor was cold. So freaking cold that I was shivering.

"Daddy... please... no..." I whimpered, softly, while he fucked my ass sorely, even more painful than the last view times.

I was sure - he was angry. Probably at me. Himself. Mom. Or the world. He just was filled with hate and anger and he needed to get rid of those feelings.

I was his victim. I have always been his toy. His only son. I was caught, just like a bird in it's cage. With broken wings.

... Taehyung.

At the moment the thought of him, the only person in my life who - at least seem to - care about me, was the only thing that made me strong enough to endure all of that shit.

And still. It was never enough. I was never enough.

When?
When will all of this finally take an end?