'Pain. What is pain? Is it the feeling when you feel hurt,unsettled, abused, what is it? There's no such perfect way you could describe pain, for, for every single person, pain meant different things. Yet, one thing was for sure, everyone suffered,some after inflicting 'pain' on others, and pain could be both, physical and emotional, where both had thier own levels of the disaster they could cause in any person.'

Jungkook woke up from his nightmare, and sat against the bed, crying to himself again, while hugging his knees close to his chest. It was morning 5 AM, dark outside, and chilly and deathly silent in the house. He sat there, in the dark, trying to provide himself the basic comfort, and sobbing, without making any noise. And soon enough, he started to breathe heavily, feeling the air getting knocked out of his lungs, and black dots appearing in front of him. When he couldn't take anymore, he fainted.

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The next time the boy woke up was when he felt a ringing sound in his ears. He looked up at the ceiling and sat up, his body aching, and his head spinning. Ignoring it, he stood up, weakly, rubbing his eyes, and looking around. The room was dark enough, he didn't like it all bright.

Why would he, either way, his life wasn't bright, rather it was darker than one could think...

There was just a single lantern, which he lighted. No windows, nothing. He walked inside the washroom, the mirror there was broken, with cracks all over it. He passed by, straightaway, heading to the bathtub, stepping over the broken tiles with his bare feet not caring if he got a cut. He lay down in the chipped bathtub and turned the tap so that cold, ice-like water began to fill in. He shivered but didn't move, and let the water soak him.

When he was all cold to his bones, he stood up, and went outside, wiping his body with the 'towel', which was more like an old torn t-shirt that he could no longer wear. He looked in his 'closet' to get some clothes and wore a simple ragged-looking blue shirt, and slipped into a pair of jeans which were tight enough, but still fitted.

He then walked out, slowly, as if he was a robot, a robot low on battery, and reached the kitchen. He felt his old cracked-up, the old fashioned phone vibrate in his pocket and so he picked it up.

'H-hello?'- which came out merely as a whisper.

'Hello, baby boy! I'm glad you're all fresh! Now come on, be quick, we are waiting.'

Jungkook visibly gulped his own saliva, and then headed to the door, opening it, closing his eyes for a bit due to brightness, and then opening them, while looking straight at the ground, at his feet. He wore a mask and then stood in front of the house where a black van soon took a break, as if almost in a skit.

The door slid open and he sat inside, his eyes leaking tears, but no voice, no sobs. Just the pain.

The pain that could no longer reside inside anymore. The pain was getting so hard to hold inside anymore.

The ride was silent, while Jungkook glanced out of the black window. He soon looked to his side, to see another male, who had his whole face covered in a black mask. He could feel the man's gaze, but Jungkook just turned his hand into a fist. The man looked to another side.

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Here he was, Jungkook, in the worst condition anyone could ever be, and yet, worst things were supposed to happen to him once more, more until he died, probably. He was barely hanging, like a dead body, helpless, eyes closed, his neck held by a strong metal ring, his arms stretched wide, with his wrist having handcuffs, and his feet, again having metal chains, all attaching him to the wall as if he were an animal skin or a simple cloth such as a curtain to be hung. He gasped for air, as well as for life, as the drug he was injected with began to do its work. He felt his head aching, his body burning, and his senses loosening while he heard laughter somewhere far away.

This wasn't new, this wasn't forced upon him. He was habitual to it. He was the live example of testers, the illegal drugs were tested on him, and he was mostly used as a punching bag. He couldn't run away, he was a doll...

...a human doll.

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It was evening when Jungkook was thrown at his doorstep, with no strength, and unless you noticed his slow breathing, one would think he was dead. Yet he stood up, and walked up to his door, opening it, and going inside. Not a single drop of water or even food was given to the boy. And he wasn't weak? No. He was, but it wasn't visible. He had no strength to even walk more than 10 steps, no strength to talk, and he stuttered when he did. He had a thin figure, and that's why he wore loose old shirts, he couldn't afford to buy pants and stuff. He used to eat really less. He was habited to it. He didn't even know why, why he was alive, why the suffering couldn't simply cease?

He had tried, tried to suicide, but he didn't die, and ended up worst if possible, and either way, hurting himself to death physically didn't even sound exciting anymore. He was used to it, as much as anybody else, well in his case, alright, nobody.

He walked to the kitchen, picked up a plastic glass which he didn't know, since when it had existed, and took a single sip of water from an old mini plastic bottle that he had kept since past 2 weeks, and which still had 1/4th of water remaining. Thinking he'd eat something tomorrow, for it had been only 3 days since he last ate, didn't matter or did it? Hah.

He then forwarded, more like crawled to his room, to sleep.

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'What should I do? Argh, I can't see him like this anymore. He deserves his life!' - the male whispered to himself while sighing sadly.

'HEY YOU! WHOM ARE YOU TALKING TO?'

'No one sir, I was just talking to myself.' -He said, more like himself because mind me, themanin front of him looked scary and at the same time like a joker, something he didn't want to showcase with his expressions,

'About what?! Huh?'

'About what I shall eat for dinner...bulgogi or ramyeon? What do you think would be fine, sir?'- he asked sheepishly.

'Oh god! If it wasn't for you being here for years, I would've killed you! Just go and eat what you can, you fucker.!'

The man walked away, while the other sighed.

'Can't even talk to me? Blah! blah! blah! Just wait and watch, I won't let you rule forever this way~'-he laughed to himself but then releasing that he was truly looking like a fool, he stopped.

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Suga and Hoseok were sitting in the meeting room, a room with a huge round table that old handle into 10 people at once and gave off dark yet serious vibes. Both of them were looking at the screen of the 12 inch monitor in front of them, with focused stares. They were so engrossed, that they didn't notice Jimin who had entered inside.

Jimin walked closer to them and kept his hands on Suga's shoulders which made the latter look back at him.

JIMIN- What are you looking at so intensively?

HOSEOK- We've got a new mission, this morning.

JIMIN- WHOA!

SUGA- Don't shout!

JIMIN- Shut up, grandpa! You don't know how much I've missed missions. Shall I call the others? Huh?-he said pouting.

SUGA- Just call Namjoon, we need to discuss. Don't call Tae, that kid's already stressed enough.

Jimin was silenced, and when Suga and Hoseok looked back, they saw him having a sad expression.

HOSEOK- What happened, chim?

JIMIN- It's my mistake, I wish I had never been so full of attitude in those days...otherwise things would have been d-different.- his tone broke by the end as he couldn't help but reflect back on those few memories that never left him.

Hoseok stood up and hugged Jimin, patting his back,

HOSEOK- Don't worry, Jimin-ah. We told you it's not your mistake. We don't know what really happened...don't blame yourself.

Jimin nodded and smiled slightly.

SUGA- Can you fucking leave him, now? -he spoke, gaining thier attention, jealousy evident on his face.

Hoseok and Jimin looked at each other and began to laugh.

HOSEOK- You jealouseuu?

Sugasimply gave him a look that said, shut-up-you-...

Hoseok showed him his tongue playfully.

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'It will be okay, or will it...?'