Father sat proud on his black couch opposite to the desk; two empty bottles of whisky littered around him. Everything in his office was a colour of black; the deepest, dirtiest secrets of the famous businessman hidden safely in a room. He had a mocking tone but a bone-chilling threat in his voice when he spoke but I had made up my mind years ago and I was not going to back down from my promise.
"Are you sure you still want me to blame and punish you for Jimin's mistakes? I doubt if your fragile body will be able to take it anymore." Anger flashed through my eyes and I had to control a snarky remark from spilling from my mouth by biting down on my tongue; it would just encourage him to inflict more pain. Instead I utter a weak and small apology from my mouth, voice trembling slightly when father reaches out for the third bottle of whisky.
"Very well. I gave you a chance." Father started while standing up, approaching me. One slap become two and then many more follow along with punches. After a while the leather belt came raining blows along on my shaking form, whimpers falling endlessly from my mouth. Father paced the room from the corner in which I was curled up to the couch at the other end of the room.
"He never seems good enough. You're distracting him. Don't you get it? Stay out of his life!" with that he picked one of the many empty bottles scattered on the floor and threw it at me. The bottle hit the wall near me and the shards of glass found home in the flesh of my calf, fresh blood pouring out of the new wounds. It felt like being hit by the belt made of thorns, scraping my skin, the pain making my mind hazy but I won't cry. I won't give father the delight of knowing that he finally managed to break me. Just when he was about to toss another one of the bottles in my direction, someone knocked on the door to the office.
Sung Jae peeked into the room and on seeing my father nodding his head, he entered the room. He whispered something to father, something that was too hazed for me to understand. Father glanced at me with hatred for one last time and strutted out of the room. I got up with great effort balancing myself, with tears about to fall from my eyes. I was about walk out with unsteady steps, my feet faltering with every step, when Sung Jae interjects and helps me to steady myself by holding onto my upper arms. I jerk him off with disgust displayed in my expressions and continue my way to my room to clean myself after watching him go out of the house. Sung Jae, father's puppet, pretends as if he has never done anything wrong but I know he is just as involved in the dirty business as father is, killing people ruthlessly, dealing in illegal drugs, transferring money illegally and corrupting the economy. As soon as I reach my room leaving a streak of blood from father's office to my room, I request someone to clean the blood from the beautiful smooth marble flooring of the house before Jimin sees it and slam the door shut behind me.
I look at myself in the full-body mirror standing there, wide and proud, reflecting nothing but the harsh truth. Shards of glasses cutting my skin, blood pouring from the cuts, welts of father's belt clearly seen on my arms. I realised that today's beating was not only about Jimin's mess up yesterday, it was his frustration about today morning's emergency, about the pain he had to endure when mother died saving Jimin's life, it was about how mom cheated on him, it was his pure and unadulterated hatred towards me, the proof of mom's infidelity with his brother. Standing here alone in my room, engulfed by silence, I allow myself to cry, pouring out all the pain, mouth stretched to let out a silent scream, throwing all of my belongings around, letting my frustration out, not caring about the mess I made in my room.
I took out the first aid kit from the connected washroom after composing myself enough to clean the wounds, going back to my room to sit on the bed. I heard the door to the room open but I ignored it thinking it was one of the maids. I was about to order them to clean the mess I had made before Jimin saw it but I stopped myself mid-sentence seeing Yoongi peeping into my room examining the destruction and its cause – me. He saw me soaked with blood, red-rimmed puffy eyes, tears pooling in them, the confusion, and the despair. I could not control the strangled sob from escaping my throat. I tried to rush to the washroom and shut the door but was not fast enough due to my reopening injuries. Yoongi caught my forearm and I visibly flinched letting out a hiss of pain, not expecting the burning sensation from where I was whipped. He withdrew his hand seeing my reaction.
Yoongi made me sit on the edge of the bed gently, took the first aid box from my hand and slowly started pulling out the shards of glass logged into my legs with a tweezers while I clenched my jaw, gripping the edge of the bed until my knuckles turned white. The pain intensifying as soon as he dabbed the cotton ball soaked in the antiseptic onto my wounds. On hearing the whimper fall from my lips, he stopped his action, looking up at my face with worry etched onto his, he grabbed my hand and asked me to relax comforting me that it would be over in no time. Soon he started cleaning the dried blood again humming a tune so melodic that it robbed my attention from the pain. He then proceeded to get me some ice for the welts and sting cause by the whip. He got into the bed with me and pulled me into a hug, softly cuddling with me, being careful of the fresh wounds he had just treated. He was still humming the same beautiful song and soon I found myself drifting off to sleep in his arms after expressing my gratitude in a whisper.
"You have to learn to smile through your pain. Sometimes it's all we got." – Sherrilyn Kenyon
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A/N: I have decided to upload the story on Thursdays along with Sundays since I've alreaady pre written a lot of it. Thank you to all my readers for their support. See you guys next time.
