"And you understand that you are not to see him anymore? Yes? Your truthful promise is very important to us here Y/n."

"I promise"

"You won't speak to him you won't look at him in fact you won't even breathe near the boy. Your father has made it clear he wants you and all students away from him. Especially you."

I watch as my head master heads over to the corner of the room where he gently places his hands on the young boys shoulders. "You will forget about him" his lips start to curve into a sickening smirk whilst he combs through the boys silky brown hair. "He is nothing to anyone. A lost cause he will forever remain. Understood?"

I am unable to reply as I grip tightly onto the edge of my school skirt, my palms turning sweaty and my heart thudding all the way up into my throat. He's staring right at me, those beautifully dark brown doe eyes are locked onto mine. His face remains emotionless, but those eyes, they hold a thousand feelings and all of them are screaming out at once.

He doesn't want me to leave.

"Now go my dear. Forget about this little deviant and progress with your studies. Next time you enter this school, he will no longer remain here."

"And you will never have to witness his lifeless form ever again."

8 years later

"And your CV states that you've recently turned 20 miss L/N is that correct?"

"Yes it is" I smile and watch as the woman continued to scan my CV, a simple one sided piece of paper unlike the booklets stacked next to her. People seem to have written pages and pages about themselves unlike me.

"And it says you've recently dropped out of university after studying psychology and criminology for 2 years? Why the sudden act to give up?"

I was prepared for this question. It's the first thing interviewers seem to ask me apart from my name and age.

"Well my father recently passed away so I had to take care of a few things" I struggle to get my words out before taking a sip of water from my glass the woman had kindly prepared for me. She seems nicer then the last two.

"My condolences." She frowns with forced pity, after all its "supposedly" hard to feel sorry for someone you don't know.

"Well" she suddenly breaks out of her sympathy and smacks my CV onto the pile of others. "Thankyou for coming all this way miss L/N, if things go well then you should expect to hear a call from us by the end of the week."

End of the week

"Oh come on Y/n it's a great start and it pays more then those retail jobs you've been applying for. And I'm guessing that last place never called you. So now is the perfect time to—."

"For the last time. No means no." I say before continuing to put away my books into cardboard boxes. My roommate huffs before crossing her arms over her chest. "He wouldn't have wanted to see you like this."

"See me like what?"

"This!" She gestures around herself. My bed is currently covered with boxes of all my belongings all ready to move into my new place. "Your dad wouldn't like to see you giving up on your dreams. Having to move to a smaller place all because you can't afford the rent here!"

"Kirsten" I sigh with my eyes closed. "I can't. Just. . Go through this again. Please."

"I know you miss him" she speaks with a much softer tone.

Ignoring my friend I pack up the last of my things, about to head out the room when she stops me by grabbing my arm and forcefully handing me the piece of paper. "Psychiatrist at a prison working with mental illness patients. Exactly what you've been wanting to do since you were 11 years old."

I stare down at the page silently.

"Just tell me you'll think about it. Please?"

"It pays well and you're more then qualified. You've studied the perfect subjects for the job and I know it's what you wanna do. So stop being stubborn. Dial the number. And get yourself an interview this instant!"

And that's exactly what I did. It wasn't due to Kirsten's pushiness, I'd never let anyone force me to do anything I didn't want. But because deep down, I knew she was right about me dreaming of a job like this. Helping the people who were looked down upon by society. Who had wronged in the past but were in favour of a second chance of redemption.

The forgotten ones.

Next Morning

6:00am

I didn't even have to arrange an interview. When the director at the prison realised I was willing to do the job, he immediately requested me in the next day sharp and early.

"Now it does concern me that you only have two years of knowledge with you my dear" the tall man begins to speak whilst leading me down the hallway. "But you're our fifth girl this month and quite frankly, we're desperate."

"F-fifth?" I question in shock.

"Yes. You will be assigned to just one prisoner in particular and he has a repeated habit of making these young women not last very long."

I didn't understand what the director meant by "last very long" but I knew it couldn't have meant anything good.

Swallowing the lump in my throat I keep my head down and avoid the filthy looks and disturbing comments as we pass some of the prison cells. This is a male prison, full of thugs, murders, rapists and abusers, all of them doing their absolute best to make me aware of their presence as they force themselves up against the steal bars.

It makes me on edge I won't lie, but I've seen people like them before. My father was a cop, and a very good one too. Sometimes he would leave his case study files around the house and I would read through them when he wasn't aware, my brain becoming filled with facts about countless murders all from the young age of 8.

At first it disturbed me. But I always felt safe knowing my father was on the case immediately.

I miss him terribly right now, but I know he'd be happy to see me here, see me pushing forward and achieving something I've always wanted.

"Now your sessions with him will be completely up

to you. You can decide how often and how long you spend with him. But just know Thursdays are his alone days, so you can give yourself the day off if you want." The man says before guiding me further down the corridor, allowing my ears a break from the vulgar things that were just being called out to me a moment ago.

We head down to the very end of the hallway where there's a lift. Wait. There's an underground part to this prison?

"I'm afraid we part here Miss L/N." The man says, his body stopping just before lift doors.

"Please. Call me Y/N." I smile before glancing at the security guard who makes his way over to me. He takes me to the cell where my potential patient is waiting for me, and I start to feel an odd sensation occur deep within my chore, like I had a reason to feel...

Excited? This was my time to finally test my knowledge and help someone.

The random clearing of the guards throat catches my attention as he stops at a steal metal door. "Now you don't need to worry. He's in a straight jacket and chained to the bed. There will also be a line of tape on the floor just before you as you enter the cell. That tape is there to remind you not to cross over onto his half."

"But if he's chained then why should it matter where I am?"

The guard looks at me, and I'm surprised when that look is full of concern, like he's petrified for me. "I'm told I shouldn't be in the room with you, but if needs be just shout for me. I always remain outside the door for your safety, got it?"

I gently nod before my impatience gets the better of me. I gesture for the guard to unlock the door, and when he does I realise there were a set of steal bars blocking my entry. I look back at the guard, and he takes in a breath before using another key to unlock the padlock. In that short moment of time I allow myself to look into the cell where I see him. My so called patient, tied down to a bed against the wall, his eyes peacefully closed as he sleeps.

I must say after just a few seconds of looking I'm already breath taken by him. His dark features, smooth skin and gorgeous facial structure, he's...

Beautiful.

"I mean it Y/N" the guards voice causes me to turn. "If you need me just shout."

"Thankyou. But I'm sure I'll be fine" I say and close the metal barred door shut, myself now fully inside the cell. I turn around, satisfied when I hear the guard shut the steal door opposite from the bars.

First rule of a psychiatry session.

Privacy.

Nothing is to leave the room. Everything must stay between the patient and professional in order to create a bond of trust.

Noticing the line on the floor my feet come to a holt. So he's tied to a bed, and wearing a straight jacket, surely this line is an exaggerate measure? Seeing him resting there so sweet and innocent looking, I can't even bare to think of what he could have possibly done to end up in this state.

I notice a small rusted chair in the corner and go to pull it near me, but the sudden sound of its legs scraping across the floor echoes through out the cell.

And then. His eyes open, straight away landing on the ceiling before slowly finding me at the end of the room.

It's enough to make my whole body shudder, and yet I'm not afraid, in fact I think this reaction is simply due to how handsome he is, and how intimidatingly beautiful those brown eyes are of his.

"H-hello" I stutter before clearing my throat and taking a seat on the chair. "I haven't prepared anything for us to talk about today; as I don't know enough about you or why you're here. So how about we just class today as a discussion and not a session."

Despite hearing my words perfectly clear, the boy doesn't reply. He looks around my age which just shocks me even more as to why he's here. I didn't get much of a chance to go through his file this morning, but all I know is that he's been here for 6 years already due to a number of murders.

"Why don't you start by telling me your name?" I ask.

Nothing.

"Mine is Y/n."

Still nothing.

"I just turned 20 last August."

The way his eyes just stare at me makes my body ache for some reason. Those big brown orbs, so empty looking and yet they're captivating me, making me want to do everything I shouldn't and cross over the taped line on the floor.

Who are you?

1 hour later

I was now in the prison canteen eating what was a very questionable sandwich.

I look down at my notes.

And they're empty.

After all it's a little hard to analyse someone who was strapped to a bed, and didn't talk for the whole hour, just stared at me.

"Hey Y/n"

I look up to that voice. Th prison guard from before.

"Oh hi Erm.."

"Jimin" he smiles. "Mind if I sit with you?"

"Please" I gesture at the opposite side of my table, and he happily does.

"So how did it go with your patient."

"I got nothing out of him. Not even his name. It was like he wasn't even aware of me, or his surroundings, like he was just some lifeless soul, not even aware of the fact that he was breathing."

"Ah. They didn't tell you"

I'm confused when seeing Jimin smile down.

"Tell me what?"

"Well before you arrived Jungkook had an outburst and had to be drugged."

"Drugged?"

"Yeah he gets injected with a serum that knocks him out. Keeps him asleep for a few hours and he's usually pretty zoned out after waking up."

"Well then why we're you so nervous about me going inside if he had just been drugged."

"Y/n. Your patient is a lose cannon. There's no telling what mood he's in."

"He seemed pretty harmless before."

"Because he was drugged."

"So what? Will he be drugged every time I go and see him? Because if so I doubt I'll get anything out of him."

"No. Like I said they only inject him when he has an outburst."

"Why did he have an outburst?" I fix my position to lean a little further across the table towards Jimin. I wanted to know more about him already, no one was telling me anything so far, which is why I'm so disappointed when Jimin shrugs.

"You have no clue at all?"

"Sorry. All I can say is that the director ran into the guards staff room and called us all for assistance. The patient was going crazy, he'd already injured a guard by smacking his head against the wall and broke another one's arm."

Despite hearing about such a vulgar attack, there's only one question on my mind.

Chewing my lip I narrow my eyes at Jimin, and his face turns confused. "What?"

"Nothing it's just. You keep referring to him as . Do you not know his name either."

"Oh no I do."

"His name is Jeon Jungkook"