In Love With The Teacher?? | VKook

15

Taehyung POV

I sat quiet and kept my head down. The whole time.. She simply asked who I lived with, but I kept my mouth shut. I was not going to talk and instead my brain was filled with people that could possibly call them. My first thought was Jungkook but I said no and continued upon the small list in my mind.

"Okay, how about this. I'll ask yes or no questions, all you have to do is answer by nodding. If you don't nod or move at all, I'll assume the answer is a no. Let's start."

I began to get more sad and scared than agitated, my leg continued to shake and I actually started sweating. My old bruises started to hurt as I thought of the consequences of my actions, what would my Aunt do if she found out? Would I be separated from Jungkook?

"Do you live with your Aunt?" I nodded. "Does she have a boyfriend?" I somewhat hesitated but nodded. She has many men to be correct, she just kinda sells her body. If the exact definition for boyfriend is a male who you have a romantic or sexual relationship, then yes. "Does he hurt you?" Yet again I hesitated and tears started to brim my eyes. They sometimes touch me... or hurt me. I nodded. "Does he live with you?" I shook my head.

"They don't always.." I managed to say.

"They?"

"She has many men.. and they hurt" Tears ran down my face. The only thing in my mind was Jungkook, I wanted him...no I needed him.

"Do you know their names?" She asked writing things in her book.

"No.. Its different men every day" I finally looked up at her. Her eyes kind of widened in shock.

"Okay. Let's change the subject, how is school? You have many absences."

____

Eventually I started crying terribly and couldn't help myself from spilling everything. It was terrible, I acted like a complete baby. I had sobbed to the point of where I felt like my lungs would collapse.

I told her about how I was beat every single day, how I was starved, forced to be a person for sexual pleasure, how I feel that every day is a complete terror and that I'm not thankful for when I wake up from almost being beaten to death.

I told her about my parents and the life I could of had, about how she treats me as a object and not a person. And how I say in the school until last minute and don't go home till really late because I'm scared on how she'll react when she sees me.

I cried about the pain I felt with each beating in great detail. And that you know when your starving when it feels like literal knives are stabbing your stomach. It's not like I haven't felt that. I said that the only reason I was alive, was do to the fact I didn't have enough courage to kill myself, even while knowing the pain I would of used would be less then what I've suffered.

I told her how every little thing would make me hate myself, my race, looks or gender. Even if I'm happy the way I am. Only because I'm scared to make mistakes, and learned at a young age that I am myself a mistake. That's why I've never truly enjoyed myself, I fell into depression but wouldn't embrace that I could help myself. Instead I continued to smile not wanting to hurt others, making myself seem happy in hope I could trick myself into happiness.

I always rejected help, and thought the only one who could fix this was me. Even if I know I'm weak and need help, I won't accept it. And I think that getting others involved would only hurt them, doing the one thing I hate the most. Hurting others because I have suffered.

___

(Please remember to vote >_<)