|Correction|

1

A mixture of the heavy pounding of scattered footsteps and loud curses echoed throughout the teenager's room as he attempted to dodge the multiple items that were being thrown in his direction. His brows were knit together in frustration and his hands immediately shot up in front of his face to block his mother's flying fists.

"I can't fucking believe you! You're-You're a fucking faggot!" She managed to land one harsh punch onto her son's cheek before she backed away and gripped her hair tightly between her tan fingers. "No." She repeated the word numerous times before landing a stone cold stare on her slightly taller son. "No." She stated once more, reaching forward towards the dark haired boy. Jungkook flinched away and took a step back, but his mother quickly shot her arm further out and grasped his wrist in a tight hold. His brown eyes widened and began drifting from his mother's hold on his wrist to her face.

She looked older. He hadn't realized how much time had actually passed since he last got a really good look at her. Frown lines were evident on her face and her hair was slightly messed up due to her previous tugging. A habit -he realized- that she had gained when his father left them.

"No son of mine is going to be gay." She stated calmly, her grip tightening around Jungkook's wrist. He winced internally, trying to keep a straight face during her outburst. A wicked smile found it's way on his mother's features before she raised her empty hand to his face, cupping it roughly with her thin fingers. She was staring at him, eyes taking in every detail of the boy's face. "You're so handsome. You'll find a wife- just you wait." Her brown eyes drifted from his nose, to his lips, and then up, making eye contact with him.

Jungkook bit his tongue in an attempt to hold back the reply that was festering in his gut. 'I don't want a wife.' He repeated in his mind, wide eyes analyzing the stare his mother was directing at him. Her gaze suddenly turned cold and her fingers began to pinch the skin she had in her grasp, as if she could sense what he was thinking, and Jungkook knew that her grip was going to leave bruises- maybe even cuts- on his cheek. He watched in horror as his mother gritted her teeth, her eyes falling to his chest where she stared, her hands tightening once more before releasing their harsh grips. Her fingers danced over the skin of his reddened cheek, before she pulled away entirely.

"Pack everything you think you absolutely need." She stated quietly, her voice a mere whisper. He watched her walk, carefully avoiding the items that were now strewn across the floor. She tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear before she shut his door quietly.

Once he deemed he was out of harm's way, Jungkook released a breath he'd been holding, his heart beating faster at that exact moment. He collapsed to his knees, digging his fingertips into his sweatpants-clad thighs. He had promised himself the day his father left them that he wouldn't cry. And he had kept this promise for years. Until now. When he allowed a tear to fall down his bruised cheek, and a soft sob to escape his dry lips.

__________________________________

Jungkook sighed quietly, resting his chin on the palm of his hand as he stared out the slightly dirty car window- admiring the passing scenery. His dark eyes captured the many trees and mountains in the distance as his mind began running wild, thoughts becoming jumbled together into a mass of nonsense. His mother was sat in the front seat. Silent. The hum of the car engine and faint whistling of the wind were the only inhuman noises that broke the quiet.

Was it really that wrong to like boys? Was it wrong enough that he had to be sent away to a 'correction camp'?

"Correction camp, my ass..." He muttered to himself, barely catching his mother's hard stare from the rear-view mirror. He stiffened slightly and resumed his sight-seeing, inhaling the thick scent of his mother's perfume. He hated that smell.