|Correction|

6

The familiar buzz of the flickering bathroom light resonated throughout Jungkook's brain, making the pounding in his head that had yet to cease even worse. Despite the pain medication that he was given earlier, his brain still hadn't given up on tormenting him. It had seemed that over the amount of time he'd been laying down, the pain had begun spreading, making its way to his stomach which now ached profusely, making him yearn for something to fill it.

Resting his shaky hands on the sides of the porcelain sink, the teen looked up, red eyes staring at his reflection in the metal mirror. His eyes darted around, observing the features on his thin face. He looked like hell. Lack of nutrition was beginning to catch up to him and he looked much paler, cheekbones becoming more prominent in the few days that he hadn't eaten. He ultimately regretted having not eaten anything before he boarded the bus to hell. Jungkook knew that he couldn't keep that up for long, as it was clearly taking its toll on him already.

The bruise on his cheek had healed a bit, the dark blue and purple turning into a nasty yellow color- almost as ugly as the yellow walls of that one hallway that he was all too familiar with. Almost.

Jungkook's eyes trailed over to his other cheek where the cut was still clearly present; it looked disgusting, and part of the teen wondered if he should get it checked out for infection before he would be left with a nasty scar or something.

A shaky, thin hand moved slowly to rest over his belly button, pressing gently. It hurt quite a bit and he began to feel bile rising in his throat. Even though he had wished for it, the thought of his body actually trying to rid itself of the nothingness inside hurt to no end. Breathing was beginning to become painful and he could sense what was coming as his insides tightened. He hated it.

Quickly, the teen turned and dropped to his knees in front of the white toilet, face hovering inches over the hole. He found that it wasn't pleasurable at all to be left dry-heaving over a toilet bowl that probably hadn't been cleaned in god knows how long. Just the thought made his continuous gagging worsen, and eventually he scooted back against the wall, knees brought to his chest. Everything hurt so badly, and he knew that he should probably just get up and go tell someone, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

Jungkook visibly retched at the thought of being poked and prodded at by some old man or woman who posed as a doctor.

His stomach continued to ache profusely.

A small sigh of relief left the teen's lips when he was given a moment of clarity and he leaned his head back against the tiled wall, shutting his eyes tightly to block out the flickering light. The coldness of the floor and the wall felt amazing against his burning skin and he was immediately thankful for the small, white room that was cut off from everything else in existence. 

The dark haired boy wanted to cry more than anything; his eyes were even filling with tears and his body tensed, head falling forward to rest on his shaking knees.

Why was everything so difficult?

Depression was said to come in stages, and Jungkook felt as though he was crashing through all of them at once, his mind quickly becoming tired of it all.

Giving into temptation, tears began sliding down his pale cheeks; he seemed to be doing that a lot lately. The teen genuinely hated that he had started crying all the time. He let himself slip for the first time in years just the other day, and now it seemed he couldn't keep his emotions under control. Apparently he wasn't able to keep anything under control anymore.