Mother

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This one have a little cursing. ;)

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707 is always on his own. He becomes independent over time when he left his abusive parent and his brother. He always thought back on how selfish he was. He should've brought Saeran with him. He shouldn't have had been so naïve to befriending V so sudden. He shouldn't have put his full trust on someone he just met.

707 is a cover up. Another mask he had to put on. Truthfully he loves his mask. He wishes the mask to actually be him. But every mask needed to be taken off to be able to breath freely again. A mask is an identity. In which people will never know who is behind it.

He wishes for it to be true. That this character; 707, is somehow part of his true face too. He conviced himself over that fact. That horrible and selfish fact that he wanted to believe. Time flies by. Everytime he sees himself in the mirror, the memories came back. The most awful times he had in his dark life.

Where his mother would always hit him, tie him up tight, even his wrists still have the scars. The bloody cuts had faded to a thin scar now but it never dissapear. Half of the scars he got was nothing compared to the scars Saeran had. He don't want to remember. Yet he can't help himself. He tried and tried to think something else but to no avail. The impact is just too much.

He needed help. He knew that. But what can he do? He can't let anyone know. Not that anybody knows anyway. And he will do nothing about it. Maybe he still haven't changed. Maybe he conviced himself too much that he's different. Maybe only his mask has changed. Behind that mask is still the person who would've cried over a kick from his mother.

The only person he thought was his lifesaver. She gave birth to him. Even though it was a mistake; he's a mistake, he wanted to stay by that crazy woman he called mother.

How twisted is that. He wanted to stay beside a person who drinks every fucking day. Abuse them every fucking day. And barely gives them any food.

Damn. Well. That's just how life is, huh.

Mother. I'm thankful that you are resting peacefully now. You won't suffer no more. I hate you Mother. Sweet dreams.

707 × Reader OneshotsWhere stories live. Discover now