Mentally Unstable || BTS [Completed]

<• Chapter 32 •>

Chapter 32: Action.

*Jeon Jungkook's POV*

I relaxed myself, and walked up to Hanwoo, who was writing something on his notepad as patients around him chatted.

I didn't know how to approach him... god knows where Hoseok Hyung went.

"Hanwoo," I started, "we need to talk."

He sighed, putting his pen down.

"About?" He mustered through gritted teeth.

It's weird knowing you can get on someone's nerves just by existing, and having connections with people others hate.

I tried to fight tears back as I remembered the things that happened to me in the White Room around the time Jimin first came to this hospital.

"You know exactly what I want to talk about," I told him.

"Alone, Jeon Jungkook. Let's discuss this alone."

I nodded with a straight face, but inside I was happy that the plan was going well—regardless of consequences.

As he led me through the halls, he headed towards the lunch room. I panicked a little, he was going to the kitchen because there are no cameras there.

"Stop!" I said a little too loudly.

"What?"

"Uh—N..Nurse Taeah! She's baking cookies in there," I lied.

I mean, it was pretty believable and he bought it too as he sighed and a string of profanities tumbled out his mouth.

Then, we started walking the other way, and I had to bite my lip to restrain my smile of relief.

We came to a halt infront of the staff room, it was empty.

As he opened the door and I walked in, the cool air hit me. I could see the time clearly, there was a calendar in there too!

He didn't give me the chance to look around or read the date as he slammed the door behind him.

"So kid, what do you want?"

"Answers," I told him.

"I want answers." I repeated.

He simply rose a brow, staring at me with suspicion.

God I really hope Seokjin Hyung is in here and recording, if not he can do anything and we'll have no record of it.

"Why me? Why did you hurt me?" I said, but I knew I had to go into more detail for the recording so he can admit to his crimes properly.

"Why did you physically abuse me, starve me and force medicine or god knows what down my throat? What did I do to deserve this?" I cried.

He seemed to be getting angrier as I spoke.

"I did those things because you make me sick. You little shit, people like you should be murdered. You're nothing but psychopaths. You killed, your own father," he jabbed his finger at me.

My breath hitched, my heart pounded faster, memories flashed back.

My mother, lay dead.