Jungkook P.O.V

    I was laying down on my side and looking at t.v. Ever since I woke up, I’ve been looking at t.v. nonstop since it was Saturday and all the cartoons came on in the morning. I felt my phone vibrate, glanced at it and then I looked back at the t.v. What was going at the moment was that Team Rocket, who will once again fail in taking their Pokémon, was tailing Ash, Iris and Cilan. A commercial popped up when Team Rocket said their most famous line. “And we’re blasting off againnnnn!”

     I looked at the watch on my wrist and sighed. “I guess it’s time for me to go give dad his lunch.” In a dream, mommy said to take care of dad because now that she’s gone, he won’t do it. “I’m leaving the task of taking care of your father to you.” She said with a smile. So, I did what she told me. It’s always the same cycle every day.

   I make him his breakfast, lunch and dinner but it’s the same results every day. He never eats and I’m afraid he’s going to kill himself by over working like he does. If I’m being honest, he never leaves his study. Like...never. I hardly see him. He practically lives in that room. I can just imagine the horrors that’s going on in there.

  I shook away the horrid thoughts that was floating around in my head and made my way to the kitchen. Today, I’m going to make Kimchi fried rice. It took me a couple days and stuff popping on me to get things right. I’m no longer afraid of cooking now. Granted, it doesn’t mean my food always turn out well but it’s getting better. It’s not all the way black like it was in the beginning.

   I got a tall glass and poured him some orange juice. Getting the food tray, I placed the food on it and slowly made my way to the study. Knocking on the door, I said, “Excuse me.” And made my way in. Dad makes me say that whenever he was in the room in case he was busy with something. He said it was also to prep me for when I start working. While I was walking to his desk, I looked around suspiciously. It wasn’t messy or smelled horrible. It was very cleaned for someone who stays in the room day in and day out.

   Even his desk was clean except for two huge stacks of paper on either side of him. It was just towering over him and looked like it could fall at any minute. I’m being serious. The stacks were tittering back and forth very dangerously. He’s going to be buried. Absolutely buried.  His back was facing me, and he was looking out the window. “Here’s your lunch.” I placed the tray in what little space was free. Good thing it wasn’t a large food tray.

  He was still looking out the window, not bothering to look at me. He was very quiet. Its like he wasn’t even breathing. I was starting to feel scared because that wasn’t like him. I step closer and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Dad...?” Before I knew what happened, I was thrown on the floor. Papers was falling everywhere.

  I could only lay there in shock. Dad has never treated me this way before. He took the food tray and tossed it at me. I flinched when it missed me by an inch and lost my breath.

“Why-why-why-why are you doing this?” I heard my voice quivering and my body was trembling. He started to walk towards me all scary like. “It has finally hit me. After all this time, I know now.” He started pointing at me. “It’s your fault.”

My fault? What is he talking about?

“Don’t act all innocent. You know what you did. The reason why my wife isn’t here anymore, it’s all your fault! If you did not call her, she wouldn’t have left the way she did. She would still be here. I’ve been wondering why you keep trying to bring me stuff and now I know that you’re trying to make up for what you did but it won’t work. I won’t be fooled!” He started pacing back and forth.

  I can’t believe he’s saying that like I don’t miss her too. That was my mom. “What are you talking about!? She was my mom as well as your wife. I miss her just as much as you! I had no one else to call! You were working, and brother is in the army. Mom was the only choice. You don’t think I feel bad as it is? I love mom just as much as you do. All of our family members were placing the blame on me, but you didn’t. The reason why I keep bringing you things was because mom came to me in a dream and told me to take care of you in her stead. Why would I want to hurt mom? I have no reason too. I’m thirteen! Why are you saying this to me?”

  He let out this dry laugh as he kept pacing. “Oh please! Don’t give me that crap. I couldn’t see what a devil you were because I was grieving. Now I had a lot of time to think. You little bastard!” He started to rush towards me. I scrambled to my feet and slammed his study room door. Running towards my room, I shut the door to my room and went to go sit in a corner.

  Why? What did I do wrong? Was I just supposed to lay there in pain? I would have called her even if she was working because she was the first person to come to mind when I was in so much pain. I feel bad as it is. I miss her just as much as he does. Why is he saying such things to me?

  I heard a bang and jumped. I covered my head with my arms and kept my head on my knees. “LOOK AT ME WHEN I’M TALKING TO YOU!!!” My father screamed at me. He grabbed my hair and forced my head up to look up into his eyes.

  He ended up throwing the alcohol bottle at me that he had in his hands. When did he drink? I didn’t even know we had them in the house. When he threw the bottle at me, it wasn’t empty. He knew that. The bottle broke on my chest and the alcohol burned the scratches that happened earlier when the dishes broke. Screaming out in pain, I fell on my side with my eyes closed but before I did, I noticed the smirk that had sunken in on his face.

 I opened my eyes and saw that he was gripping a bat with both of his hands. He picked me up and slammed me against the wall. With a thud and a whimper, I fell back to the ground. He then smacked me with the bat quickly and forcibly. After letting out a yell, I just laid there. He hit me again. And again. And again. The process kept happening over and over. Until he knew that I had enough, he finally let go of the bat. He let out a happy chuckle. “Remember this boy. I won’t stop until you understand my hatred for you. Just try to tell someone and you’ll get beaten worst then today. Try me if you don’t believe me.”

  With that, he walked out. I was in pain. I was in so much pain, but I manage to successfully stand up without falling over. My room was a mess. There was glass everywhere. It was covering everything, and I mean everything. The baseball bat was laying in the middle of the floor covered with the red liquid that I came to realize that it was my blood.

  The alcohol mixing with the blood caused a bad smell. I knew that I was going to regret it, but I decided to go look at myself in the mirror. I needed to.

  My hair was going in every direction from when he pulled it. On my sweatpants, you could see a puddle of red above my right knee. I was scared to look at the rest of my body. I know what I needed to do. I was afraid, but I had to. I headed to my bathroom and the faucet with whatever strength I had.

 With the cold running, I put my hand under it and tried to pull out the glass that was in them and it was ...horrible. They were too deep inside for me to get it out with my hand. Getting a rag, I tied it around my neck and mouth, so I wouldn’t make a sound.

 Then I got some tweezers and a small glass. I pulled it out slowly but that made it worst. My eyes were starting to get blurry now. I started to pull them out quicker and a horrifying scream tried to leave my body. Since I had the rag in, i