Jimin woke up in the blank room. His mind spinning in circles. He feels nauseous, wanting more than anything to feel at ease. Sadly, he knew the only thing that can help.
His dad made sure he had that thing. Jimin looked to his side, to the metal table, next to the whited medical bed he was on.
As you could imagine the blank room is exactly what is. A white-walled room, and white-rugged floor. The only things being in it is: a white medical bed, low metal table, old worn punching bag, and few pictures.
But the pictures were those, of the types of cards therapists asked patients to identify. Each one haunting Jimin with their own daunting story to tell.
He got more dizzy. A headache pounding his skull. So he rapidly grabbed the meds on the table and opened each bottle, grabbing the appropriate amounts and shoving them in his mouth. Gulping the water until nothing was left.
Laying down he goes over the events of the past week. Formulating questions.
Questions such as; how long was I knocked out? What is my dad thinking? How are Yoongi and the others? Did they forget about me?!!
As his mind worked up all these thoughts, he felt the need to let them out. The need to sweat.
So he went up to the old, beaten up punching bag. Giving it his fists once again.
As he gave it his hardest, he felt the wet drips glide down his face. Making it's way towards his lips, where he tasted the salty, sick taste on his tastebuds.
The more he beat, the more he thinks. And his emotions poured into it. His true emotion being; mad. Good thing this is a punching bag and not a person. Even though he'd love it to be his father, and anyone who's ever hurt him.
Oh, Jimin was pissed. Pissed at the world. So mad at his dad, mad at his brother...... Mad at Yoongi. He said he wouldn't let him go. But here he is.
He punched until his knuckles bled. Drowning out all the fear, sadness, and MADNESS.
Once he was tired, and fully drenched of sweat he turned towards the camera. Waiting for the next pain. Just going through the motions.
It happened like clockwork. Except Jungkook came in, instead of a guard, with the ice barrel. He had a solemn expression, but Jimin let him proceed. Not making eye contact, or giving him the satisfaction of seeing his betrayed expression.
Jungkook sighed. Whispered a sorry, like it meant anything, and poured the bucket over Jimin's head.
All the ice and freezing water gushed down his body. Making him shiver, but finally turning his heart completely cold. He was done. He doesn't deserve this, he knows it. And it's worse that it's by his own little brother.
When he left, Jimin glared at the camera. Letting his father know he won this round. But he won't let him win any more. He may win the battles, but Jimin will win the war.
It's his game now.
~
Omg, ik this chapter is shorter. But like I have so many ideas formulating in my mind RN, it's crazy.So, like, be prepared.
Don't worry I'm not gonna fall behind on updating again, I felt bad and it took a toll on me. But the break did help clear my mind, and my mind has so much ideas in it. So yeeeee.
Hehe >°< xD.
Lots of love <3
M wuah,
Zety
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𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚖 𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚎| yoonmin ✔
FanfictionJimin just wants freedom, but between his father and kidnapper, he can't catch a break.