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No Specific Date Jeon Residence
Jungkook's P.O.V
I grew up rich.
Father was taking care of Mother as we lived in an illusion of happiness. We were the talk of the town, families had been trying to set up their slutty daughters with me.
I became down, locked in my room. I tried other things: painting, singing, dancing, but nothing worked.
I became bored, having tantrums in my room to the point Mother would come up to scold me. I ignored her scolding and only focused on the man of this house. Yet, I became exhausted seeking the attention of Father.
So I chose to break the rules. I broke through the window. Don't worry, I came home after Father angrily dragged me back home.
He would send maids to whip me several times in the back. Father said it would make me more durable to pain. I believe him so I hid my pain.
When I turned 15, things changed. I became a copy of Father.
I began to dissect tiny things; squirrels, birds, rats. Mother was completely petrified when I sent her a box full of bloody squirrel tails.
She sent me to an asylum. It became a room full of people like me. We all escaped at one point. I sliced the entire team before the cops find out we left at an unusual departure. It was an act of sacrifice in my view.
I came back to the news of Mother's death. It didn't change my perspective on her.
It was my father and me for the rest of the time. He brought in women each week, only for a quick fuck then left them on the curb.
Father changed over time though, his demeanor more mature and dull. You'd only see him sipping his daily coffee with slow, sluggish movements.
He home-schooled me, to keep his name out of Mother's death.
I grew up suffering.
Father always taught me strength is more important than emotions. He used to bring me in the backyard and make me go through large obstacle courses, changing them each day. If I failed, he himself would cut through my back instead of calling in a maid or two.
For five, then six, then five, then seven, then three. I had gotten over the hurting, becoming more athletic to the courses each week.
He gave me little food to eat. Father repeated, 'Your body grows on improving your fitness, there is no time for food.'
I used to eat the rotten rat meat I spared in my too at one point.
I grew up to earn revenge.
Have you ever heard the story? The boy who was left behind by his parents to work for six years. They only saw their son once or twice a year.
I wish I'd be like that boy. What a lucky young man.
So what he worked since the age of six? I worked since two.
Father never liked me, I know it. I see how he looks at me whenever I look at him in disgust. He always showed that disturbing.
Father always smiled when I cried, always saying an adage of, 'Turn your pain into wisdom' or 'Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional.'
