J U N G K O O K
The last thing I can remember is my mind going blank and a wave of anger rushing all over my body. My teeth gritting and my palms bleeding. Not the kind of morning I expected to have. A pair of raging eyes meeting with mine and I somehow stared back fiercely, my gaze so unwavering, that for a split second the pain I am feeling disappeared.
Mrs. Shin, our maid, had rushed to my side, eyeing between me and my father before ripping the side of her gown and wrapping the delicate piece of cloth around my bleeding hand.
Long story short, I had intended to punch my father on the face but hesitated and punched the vase beside him, resulting the expensive antique item to be broken into large shards of glasses and my right arm to bleed. It all started with him criticizing my skills with the incident last night. But Alex Dinovo was my responsibility and business partner to begin with. So, when he had to make me feel more awful than I already did about yesterday, I somehow couldn't control my anger and started blasting at him. He did the same. Then the mansion was filled with our screams, neither of us willing to listen to each other.
At first, I found it very weird how easily I got triggered over something so small, but I guess you can blame the hormones because I was not getting a hold of myself. That's when my body reacted and ended up hurting myself instead. Not the kind of kick ass move I was going for, but I had to unleash this anger somewhere. I wonder why it's so hard for me and this old man to get along with each other. I'm his son, a simple you've tried your best wouldn't make him lose a dollar of his time.
"Bravo! I was hoping for more of throwing the plates off the table. But I guess breaking your father's favorite vase would do too" a familiar voice whispered into my left ear, giving me chills on spot as I jumped towards Mrs. Shin, who looked baffled at my sudden behavior.
"What?" the figure in a complete black suit questioned with an eyebrow raised. "Was it the whisper? That's how we used to tame our humans back in the day. Except now if we do that, they would either visit a shaman or a doctor since even the slightest stroke of wind makes them think they are haunted or gone mad. Don't worry, I'll work on that"
"Dr. Min Yoongi? What are you doing here!? Who let you in?" I asked. Seconds after my question was put out, the entire room of maids and my father watched me in disbelief. He messaged the bridge of his nose and sighed before asking "Who are you talking to, Jungkook?"
"Me? I'm talking to-" I was about to speak, pointing at the man beside me before Yoongi cut me off "Don't bother, they can't see me. I'm on duty, kid"
"On duty?"
"You know, making you do some fun stuffs"
"And you are invisible because..."
"Because I feel like it. Now shut the fuck up. Why do teenagers ask so many questions?"
"First, I'm not a teenager. Second, you come into my house uncalled and expect me to what? welcome you with a bouquet of flowers and trumpets?"
"Thank Satan you have an attitude. I'm loving it. You have no idea how glad I am that Harin had a morning shift today."
"You're missing the point"
"I used my feather, dumbass. The same thing you called chicken feather last time. It's not rocket science. This" he said, pointing towards his suit pocket, inside which a delicate black feather rest. "Allows me to be visible to you and not to others"
"If you are done having a conversation by yourself, might I suggest taking an appointment at our hospital" Father spoke, grabbing his suitcase and files before leaving the dinner table. "Might do you some good" he continued, brushing my shoulder with a teasing smile, and walking right through Yoongi's entire figure, making him look like a glitch.
His statement shook me to the core as I watched him exit the mansion with my mouth wide open in complete disbelieve. What a father. I could be possessed by a ghost for all he knew, and he just says that and leave. Unbelievable.
Yoongi caught the gist of it and walked closer to me, watching my father get into his car through the wood framed window. He rested his palm on my shoulder before saying.
"Let's kill him"
"Jesus Christ, Yoongi!!"
"How dare you speak our names together!"
_____________
"My dad is not a bad man. At least to everyone else he wasn't. I guess growing up I wasn't the most eligible person to take over his inheritance. If it wasn't for our family history with the hospital, I wouldn't even be in the list of the eligible candidates"
We walked through the corridors of the hospital, holding onto our morning cup of coffees. Yoongi ordered an ice espresso, and I had a caramel macchiato for myself. Unlike every day, there was no bustling across the hallway. No patients sneaking out or a nurse running across rooms. It was unusually quiet. But all that peace was until Yoongi cussed, echoing across the quiet hallway.
"Bullshit, this hospital started with you way long back than your dad could count his ancestors"
"What?"
"What?"
"Eh"
"Uh"
He repeated and stared at me like he wasn't supposed to have said that.
"You're pretty weird for a Demon"
"Excuse me. What made you assume I am a demon, coconut head"
"Literally, you calling me that is enough to know you aren't the sweetest thing on the planet. And what in our conversations made you think I'd take you for an angel. Including the idea of killing my dad"
"Fair enough" he whispered. "But let's be more precise here. I am your guardian Demon. So, you will be seeing more of me around"
"What is that even. I thought only guardian angels exist"
"Well then you are living under a rock"
"So, what do you like do to me? Do you like make me want to kill myself!?" I questioned with wide opened eyes and a tighter grip on my coffee. We both paused and Yoongi took a step back towards me, tilting his head.
"That would be nice"
"Good one, dude" I laughed.
But he didn't.
"What-okay mister you listen here-"
"Relax kid, that's not what I'm here for. Yes, I don't necessarily influence you in the right path. But there is something I've done to you in the past. I must fix it. I don't know how much you know about it, but you will start to remember soon, Jungkook. It's going to hurt"
"What is this thing about my past again. Why are you all obsessed with it?"
"You're going to do it again" Yoongi spoke, a different kind of grip in his voice, making it seem more serious. A while ago I could hear people's small conversations and the sound of footsteps. Suddenly it was even more quiet. It felt like his voice was only for me to hear. I could feel the hair on my hand standing, as though static electricity passed through me.
It was a feeling I was somehow familiar with. His words though unfamiliar, it felt like my body recognized its meaning.
"And I just hope I wouldn't be there this time"
"Maybe you had enough coffee, dude" I reacted, moving his hand that held the coffee away from his face.
"It's a saying" Yoongi shrugged. "Things you do in the past life, your soul is bound to do it again"
"What did I do?" I asked, feeling anxious.
Yoongi's face softened. It wasn't all serious anymore, rather his expressions played with emotions indicating pity and worry. He looked down at the marble flooring and then straight into my eyes. With a sigh he looked ahead of him, taking his phone out of his suit pocket.
"Oh" he voiced. "Namjoon's back!" he blurted, looking through the notification on his phone and completely ignoring my question.
"I need to go check on him. I wonder what oil he got fried in this time, and which bone of his Hades might have fed to his poodle. I'll see you around, kid" with that he walked to the escalator, eyes glued to his phone, not giving me a second glace.
______________
With Yoongi not around, I found myself walking towards the secret room I had discovered as a child. I remember the first time I found this place. It was as if I knew there was something beyond that wall. I found myself coming back to this same place every day, making sure the wall wasn't like the ones in harry potter stations where you could go through. Until one day I slipped trying it, on to the hidden bar that had opened the wall to a whole new room, so different from the entire architecture of this modern building.
Back then I came here to get away from my dad. Coming to a hospital like this at a younger age never made sense to me. But father was persistent I become familiar with this environment. He is a peculiar man. He knew things I didn't. But he never spoke a word of it to me.
And so, this room was all mine to keep away from him. I didn't have a lot of friends growing up. These walls were filled with my laughter's and sorrows. I loved it. As if it was once my home. I felt connected to it.
But then drifted apart as I grew older. My mind only being filled with money and success. I left my childhood traits within these walls the last time I left. I grew. But this place remains the same.
"Wasn't expecting you" I jumped at the female voice that spoke behind me.
"Harin!?" I panic yelled at the woman who was gracefully seated on the antique chair. "How did you find this place?"
"I saw you walk in here once"
"Does not mean you can"
"I don't see a name here"
"At least don't scare me like that. You nearly gave me a heart attack, woman!"
Harin's gaze were soft. She smiled with her cheeks pressed against her wrist, signaling me to sit beside her with her other hand patting the empty chair to her right.
I gave her an awkward look before walking to the other direction and placing my coat next to the empty bench, sitting right opposite to her.
"Oh c'mon. I won't bite"
"You are in a room with a man, alone. Aren't you at all scared of what I could do to you?"
"You are sitting across a supernatural being from another realm who could take you out with a single stroke of my finger. Are you not afraid of what I could do to you, sir?"
The silence was deadly.
I gulped.
"I didn't mean it" I spoke with a low voice, almost being apologetic.
"I know" she replied with a warm smile.
"You're my guardian angel, aren't you?"
Harin froze, she looked confused but smiled before asking. "You figured it out"
"Actually, your competitor Yoongi was making it too obvious. In fact, all of you beings make it so obvious and then end up asking me how I got to know. Its literally the funniest thing to me"
"Sorry, it's not like we end up doing things at the view of humans. This is all new to us as well. And seeing how you are adjusting to all of this still baffles me"
"I've seen worse things growing up in these hospital walls. It's only a matter of time that I'm gone mad as well. My own father highly doubts of it as well"
She laughed. Her untied brown strands of hair falling on her cheeks and her fingers brushing them back. The small glare of sunlight from the cracks between the broken window had creased her lips, making them more beautiful when she laughed, and I found myself staring at her like a fool. An angel indeed.
"It's nice that you remember your childhood at least. I don't remember anything of such sort"
"Does Angels not have a childhood. Are you made from clouds or something?"
"No haha I don't think so. We actually just...exist I guess"
"Right" I replied, getting up and walking towards the bookshelf in search for my journal I used at my early teenage years. "Actually, I have it all in my journal" Harin's words reminded me of this journal. I walked closer and blew the dust off the wooden board, only for it to blow over me and getting it all over my face. This was followed by chuckles from the other corner.
Harin was now beside me, using her silk napkin to brush the dirt of my face. She was slow and careful. Fortunately, the dust didn't get into my eyes, so I had them glued to her. She smelled amazing. It was like roses. It felt familiar.
"You journal?" she asked, continuing to gently crease my cheeks with her napkin.
"It's something I do all the time. It's like a habit"
Harin's expressions changed. She looked worried.
"Do you also paint?"
"Yes, all the time. How did you know?" I replied and she froze. Her hands dropped to her side.
"Do you have a scar on your ankle?"
"Wow some privacy, please? How did you know!"
Her breathing was heavier than before. Harin took a step back, hands holding the hemp of her lace skirt.
"How did you get it?"
"I got it while swimming, why?"
"Jungkook, there is something you have to know" Harin whispered, her voice getting lower and tensed. She wouldn't take her eyes of mine, but I couldn't tell if she was worried for me or scared of something. There was evident fear.
She had placed her hands on the old wooden board of the bookshelf in an attempt to get closer to me, which had led it to shake and a book to slip out of the bundle at the top rack, falling straight to her. We both reacted at the same time and tried to catch the book. It landed on both our hands. Which led to an awkward touch.
However, it didn't last long.
When our hands creased over each other, that seconds of touch had my mind replay this memory in a different way. A piercing pain hit my head, followed by a beep noise. My vision started to blur, and I looked at Harin with half open eyes and my cloth wrapped hand holding both my eras pressed tight. The pain from the vase was gone. It was my ears that felt were bleeding and my mind flickering between vague thoughts from nowhere.
It was the same room, the same fragrance, and a familiar voice. Though I was just recalling, my head was hurting like hell. I wanted it to stop. Before I knew, my knees felt weak, and I trembled to the floor, my body curled like an infant in womb.
In my memories I reached for a hand, my smile lingering with a woman's. Our lips touching, and hearts beating at one another's embrace. Beautiful, yet painful to remember. This was followed by tears and agony. One moment she was there, next she disappears, leaving me alone.
"Jungkook, are you okay!?" Harin yelled, holding my shivering hands that were covering my ears.
"You're okay! Don't worry I got you" she whispered, my mind still stuck in the screenshots of memories playing over each other, her words meant nothing to the pain I was in.
Memory after another I was stuck in a room of paintings. All drawn by me. Among them was one painting I couldn't take my eyes of. She had long flowing hair. Her face still blurry. The last stroke on it was red. So was the brush I held. And so were my hands. Covered in red paint. No. Covered in blood.
It didn't hurt. The painting was more painful.
The menory changed. I was now holding a bowl of liquid. It was black. It looked dangerous. But it tainted my lips. Did I consume it.
Like a loop of pain, it continued. This time a rope pressed around my neck. It felt real. I felt strangled in it's knot. My hands automatically moved to my neck, trying to get rid of the invisible ropes. It hurts. I can't breathe. Help.
There were loud voices.
"Dont give it to him. He is dangerous"
It hurts.
"You will see her again. Dont let him free"
Make it stop.
"Words have power, Ethan, write it"
The rope tightened. The man in my memory didn't fight to get out of it. But my body reacted. When I knew I couldn't breathe, I was brought back to reality. Crouched beside me was a beautiful woman. She took my hands near my chest, pressed it over with hers and asked me to focus on my breathing. The vision stopped with the echo of my own voice in my head, spreading across the room. And a fading memory of me with a feather pen in my hand.
"Dear, wife"
My breathing didn't matter. The rope was no longer around my neck. I blinked several times. I thought I escaped the loophole of pain. And I thought I was back. But an unfamiliar word escaped my mouth at the woman beside me, and I continued to hold her hands tighter.
"Grace"
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A/N- I know. I'm very late.