The Golden Maknae

Confinement

The rest of the weekend was a blur, he let me come out of it only to eat a bit and use the bathroom. 

"Bo, I won't mess up again. Please let me cook you dinner tonight. I will be a good girl again."

He said nothing to me. Nothing at all. 

I came to just before noon on Monday, there was a bucket in the room and a couple of sandwiches. The door had a new lock on it. My bedroom door. With horror, I realized I was a prisoner and nothing would probably change anytime soon. 

I had some books in my room at least. 

When he got home he emptied the bucket. 

"I will let you come out as long as you behave yourself. I picked up dinner."

"Thank you Bo." 

I walked out carefully and went to the bathroom. "Clean the bucket out while you are in there, you will need it later."

"Please Bo, don't lock me in all week."

"People asked about the scratches on my arm, I'm sure there will be rumors. You may have cost me my job. I have looked into our financial situation and if we move to the country we could probably make it ok. Hope you are happy."

"I'm sure it will be ok, I'm sorry I scratched up your arm. What did you tell them?"

"I told them you tripped and almost fell down the stairs and I grabbed your arm and pulled you back up before you got hurt but got scratched in the process by accident."

"See! You are so very smart, it will be fine. Let me take care of you again."

"No, not yet. You need to learn your lesson."

We ate dinner and I tried to make conversation but he was silent again. After dinner, we watched a movie that was full of violence. He was very obviously only picking it for him this time and when it was over he walked me to my room and locked me in again. 

At least he wasn't drugging me anymore.

The next morning he brought the bucket and let me use the bathroom before he left, which was nice since having it full in the room after using it sucked. I lay on the bed and cried. I wondered what Jungkook was thinking. 

Was he worried or mad?  I really was stressing out about it. What if he tried to talk to Bo? 

I went around and around my room, pacing. 

When Bo came home I struggled to look normal but felt like the stress was plain on my face. The next day he made a point of acting like he was doing me a favor by not locking me in. 

"No one has said anything yet, you may be right that it's OK."

After he left for work I carefully searched the apartment for anything that might help my situation. I left no stone unturned but found nothing.  

The next day I started looking again. I usually never stepped foot in his room unless he told me to but today I decided to see what I could find. Again, nothing. 

Friday I cried all day. I had finally given up. I thought about killing myself. I thought about trying to break windows. I thought about banging on the walls and stomping to see if someone would call the police. 

About 2 PM someone knocked on the door.