'For many, living might mean getting the things they want, being able to spend time and money with those whom they love, and having a happy life...

But for some, living can be simply being free, free to breathe, free to smile, free to do what they want...and not money, and not any other 'thing'.

For him...he wanted safety and freedom, and that was what, living meant to him.'

Jungkook had no strength whatsoever, to do anything. It was hard to breathe itself, forget about opening his eyes or even move. He could hear some faint talks which were surely about him, but he couldn't do anything. No energy left to comprehend what was being talked about. He still hung the same way, by the wall, in absolute darkness. The place stunk of dead rats, and whatnot, drugs, and cigarettes add the smell from the boy itself, for he hadn't been bathed for two days straight.

His only wish right now, was, to have a warm hug. He wanted his mother. He missed his mommy.

His head throbbed hardly, as his hands made their way to hold it, but no, the bloody chains. And so, he stood, chains on his feet, on his wrists, and around his neck. His body hurt, the red-blue-purple bruises, blood leaking out many areas.

He let the darkness take over him, since he knew nothing, he could do nothing.

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Coldwater. Cold, just like frozen ice, was thrown at his body, which made him whimper. He wanted to shout, but he couldn't. His voice seemed jammed his throat burning.

'WAKE UP, YOU BITCH!'

Opening his eyes slightly, he looked to see him, again.

'Haha! Look at your pathetic condition. Aww! I feel bad. Oh no no! Not for you, but for myself. We'll have to say goodbye soon for your buyers are gonna arrive tomorrow evening.'

Jungkook's eyes widened, as the reality sank in, embedded with the cold.

He wanted to speak out, 'NO', but he couldn't. And surely the man saw him trying, for

'You wanna speak? Hahaha! Sorry boy, but you can't even move. It's the result of the drug. Never mind, have a nice sleep, for, after today, you'll be the slave, of your new masters, their s** slave.'

Tears made a way out of his eyes, down his face, as he cried, without any noise, no whimpers, no shaking, just tears filled with pain, with sadness. All the destroyed hopes were now flowing out. He was tired, mentally, and physically. Tired of his life.

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He looked at the boy's petty figure, looking helpless. It hurt him. He could do nothing. That's when his walkie-talkie went off. He held it close to his ear,

'You've been called to the control room.'

Making his way through the dark corridor, he reached the metal door and knocked.

Another mate of his opened the door and motioned him inside. He could see their boss sitting on the chair, with a cocky smirk on his face.

'There were a few guys seen around that boy's house. I need you to check about them. I don't want anything going wrong tomorrow.'

With that, their boss left.

He looked ahead, into his mate's eyes, who looked back and nodded.

Okay, this was the sign.

They both began to scroll the cctv's, and zoomed in and out, sharpening the image and viewing it.

It took them around an hour to find the locations, moreover the name of the figures.

???- You go, I'll take care of all this. But make sure, they can be trusted.

He nodded and hugged the boy for the last time before making his way out of the control room and out of the warehouse, telling the security guard that he was going to have his dinner.

'I'll try my level best to save you, Jungkook. Doesn't matter even if I die.'

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