Little | Taekook

• Five •

Jungkook's POV:

Pain.

Why did I always feel it?

When I'm sleeping, when I'm eating, when I'm drinking, when I'm relaxing- why do I always feel it?

Like many other times before, I opened my eyes, and felt pain.

At this point, I'm not even surprised.

But, this pain was bad. It made it hard to breathe.

I realized I was still in the living room, and Danun was nowhere to be seen. Or my caregiver.

I want to go back in little space.

But I can't.

Wanna know why?

Because I can see just by looking down that one of my ribs is broken.

My entire chest was bruised, and my ankles were still bleeding a bit from when my caregiver dug his nails into them so he could do whatever he wanted to me. I know what I am.

I'm his punching bag.

I'm his sex slave.

I'm his burden.

At this point, I don't even care what I am to him anymore. It doesn't matter. Sometimes I just want to give up, and just ran as far away as I can.

But I can't.

I tried to stand up, but then the room started to spin a lot, so I quickly sat back down on the floor. I held my head, and that's when I realized it was bleeding.

Probably just another concussion.

I pushed away the nausea, and stood up anyway. It was even harder to breathe when I stood up, but I didn't care. I went into the kitchen for some Tylenol or something, but I only started to cry when I saw the cabinet's still locked.

He's tried to kill me slowly before.

He's made me cough up blood before.

He's starved me before.

I went into his bedroom, and he was asleep. Naked.

F*cking disgusting rapist.

"Hey!" I hit his arm, and he jolted awake. I yelped as he pulled me down next to him, and I could feel my headache turn into a migraine. "That's not how you wake up daddy." He growled in my ear. Jesus.

I knew it was weed I smelled when I walked in here.

"First of all, please at least open the medicine cabinet- please." God I hate to beg like this. Epically when I feel like dying. "Why don't you go back in little space, Kookie...it'll make you feel better."

Jesus.

~~~~~~

-8 hours later-

"Dwaddy?" The little whimpered as he looked over to his caregiver. "Yes?" His daddy sighed, looking over at the little with red eyes from being under the influence of drugs. "Was dat smell?" The little questioned, not liking the heavy smell in the atmosphere. "Doesn' matter." His caregiver slurred, turning his head away from the little, closing his eyes to relax again with a smirk. "But I don' wike it." The little pouted, also not liking the smoke in the air. "Whatever." His caregiver brushed it off, and slouched farther down in the couch.

"Daddy?" The younger asked again. "What?!" The little jumped back at the loud voice, and swallowed sharply. "Nofwing." He mumbled quickly, looking back down to the floor.