fiendish heart [1]

10 。memories pt1: manners

Jeon Jungkook had always been different different. When asked to draw a picture of his favourite food, his carers were left horrified to find he had drawn a pig with it's head cut off. The image was bloody and dark, not sparing a single detail. Jungkook saw no wrong in it. His favourite food was pork. Pork was a pig right?

During nap times, carers would find him playing with toy screwdrivers. He'd run them up and down his skin as he'd sing to himself in the corner. After weeks of continuing this abnormality his parents had to be called. They drew the line after Jungkook smashed a window. When asked why he had done such a thing - getting glass in his arm, he shrugged, playing with his bandages and replying, "I wanted to see what pain felt like." Then he smiled, pressing down on his wounds as the carers pulled on his limbs to hold him down. „I liked it."

-

「24|07|2001」

Jungkook was isolated from the outside world. His parents locked him away and would only bring him from his room when psychiatrists and other mixtures of doctors would come to see him. He found the talks boring, usually getting distracted. Mostly, he was a good child. He listened when spoken to, was well mannered, never stepped out of line, and always respected other people; but never himself.

„Kookie baby," Sohyeon whispered, letting her knuckles rest against the doorframe as she watched her beloved son read under the tiny lamp he kept beside his window. „Dinner's ready, it's your favourite."

„Pig?" Jungkook spoke up, looking towards his mother with new found energy. He shut the book promptly, placing it back in it's place. He wiped his pants to make sure nothing made him look dirty before standing in front of his mother, eyes sparkling with the thrill of leaving his room to talk to people.

„Pork, baby, it's called pork." Jungkook's smile fell, his eyes losing that brilliant light as they bedimmed to a form of sadness. His mother used that disapproving tone he hated.

„I'm sorry." He sniffled, stepping away from her and toiling the hem of his shirt, refusing to raise his head.

„Oh baby, it's alright." Sohyeon spoke gently, tugging on the boy's shoulders and wrapping her arms around his frame. „You are just confused. Never be sorry, okay?" Jungkook nodded obediently, repeating the phrase to himself: never be sorry. „Come on, daddy's home early, he came home as a special surprise for you. And he brought company." In seconds the light returned to his eyes and Jungkook was running down the hallway, dragging his stuffed bunny behind him as he stormed into the dining area, looking around in awe.

People filled the setting, creating a warm and tranquil atmosphere that he dearly missed. It left a wide and pleasant smile on the four year old's generally unmoving expression. Jungkook had learnt to hide his emotions, because no one understood how he truly felt when he showed them. Misconception was all they saw, taking his excitement for anger and aggressive outbursts, or his sadness for being shy and rude.

„Kookie, look, lots of people." He whispered slowly, bringing the bunny to his chest and squeezing it tight, twisting from side to side as he waited to be invited to the table. „New people..." Before he could continue to bask in the new rush of adrenaline, his arm was tugged on as his mother bent down to kiss his cheek.

„Baby, come sit beside Yugyeom, he is Mr and Mrs Kim's son." Jungkook peaked above the table, scanning the people until he saw a boy his age stuffing his face with a sweet smelling meat that had Jungkook jumping in a bubbly rush of energy. His mother guided him, pulling out a seat and letting him slip into it. He sat, watching the boy's dark hair glow orange under the vivacious warm hues of the lighting.