My Viewpoint || J.JK ✓

66

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Kidnapped.

Chemicals rushing in,
I know it's you that I belong to,
And I'm burning like a cannonball in the air,
Crashing into who I belong to.
I have been patient but slowly I'm losing faith.

The nib of the pen dug deeper onto the paper as I stare down at the words I scribbled. It's been five days, a whole five days since I have been locked in here. The whole five days where I would look up expenctantly for him to come, atleast to meet me and explain everything, and tell where we went wrong, where I went wrong, or where was the complication.

My chest heavier as each moment passed. Every bit of hope was slowly thinning down. Not a day passed without humiliation and hours of questioning. I would stare as their lips blabbered continuously and their faces contorted into disgust and frustration. They would seem to be comically shouting and cursing me but nothing could deter me.

It won't be long before the president hears my case. And it was already a lost one; I had no evidence on my side.

The most I had talked to was Taehyung. After that night, it would be him talking, bringing in food which I would be forced to gulp down, or keeping tabs on my appointments, that is questionings or meetings with people. Though mostly, it were all about the frustrated prosecutors.

"I hope you're ready to speak today." I flinch inwardly as the same old man sat in front of me while Jaebi stood beside him with her gun loaded and a whip in hand. I stare at it for a while before shaking my head.

I could've tried escaping, but for whom? I had nothing of myself. The only passion I possessed was now in better hands, safe and sound. I didn't see anything I could live for. I could just envision myself as a broken and defeated woman sitting in the corner aimlessly. I hear Taehyung click his gun quietly from the shady corner, his way of reassuring that if I was attacked, he would make sure to protect me.

I crunch the piece of paper in my hand, pulling it closer to my chest. The old man, who was none other than Mr. Fernsbie, eyed me for a second and raised his brows. I bit my inner cheek, nervous that he would take it from me. All these days I was sneaky enough to hide it, unlike today. This tear sheet was all I had to which I could talk freely; I didn't know the extent of my insanity if it was taken away.

I wasn't even exaggerating.

He gazed at me and back at paper before shrugging, leaned back on his chair and crossed his arms. He had the same skeptical look on his face. My thumb pressed on the nib of the pen as I shadow the page under my arms.

"Same questions, but I expect answers." He adjusted his glasses and propped forward on his elbows. I look on at him, my lips sealed. He sighed and looked down at his questionnaire. I almost scoffed at him; even I remembered every single question printed in there.

Why did you kill Mr. Bang Nehemiah?

I simply stare at his eyes. Though in my mind, the scene passed through my mind; where Jungkook had pressed his vital nerves and knocked him unconscious.

The drug used is illegal and rare. How did you get that? Whom are you dealing with? What's the underground business we are getting here?

Jungkook had the transparent gloves on his hands. He had pulled out the syringe and set it in action. He knew what he was doing when he pinched the needle onto his skin. He very well knew what was the dosage and the effect on him. And after that, he pulled me to him and he kissed me.