lost in translation || BTS

the truth

A week and three days.

It's been exactly that long since I've been living with Ma, and have completely given up on trying to fight him. I never knew that I could be this weak, this pathetic, and this incredibly stupid.

All I have to do is tell the truth.

To anyone. So that they can come rescue me from this bipolar lowlife.

"Wake up sweetheart", he whispered into my ears. His voice a complete change from the one that he shouted in the night before. Where he demanded me to 'keep my ass in the air', whenever I collapsed.

"You're a fucking asshole", I insulted him every minute during his 'sweet Ma' mode. He apologised softly, and massaged my body. I don't know why, I was disgusted with this side of his too. It all seemed fake and staged. As if he was only being nice so that I wouldn't run away, or collapse completely with constant abuse.

"I have work today. The boys have a fanmeet to attend."

The new head, Jihyuk, had called me up and informed me that I was doing very well so he was soon going to hire me as his PA. Jihyuk doesn't only work for BTS, and so being with him would mean I would get paid more, have more work, and will be able to stay away from Ma as much as possible.

"Decline his offer", Ma had said. And I'd declined him. He beat me that night, when I refused to reject the once in a lifetime offer I'd gotten.

That night, the courage I'd been mustering up for so long had all drained out of me- I hit him back. I punched him, kicked him, threw things at him. But soon he overpowered me. The things he did later were all unbearable, but I had this satisfaction in my heart of being able to hit him. I knew I could do that again.

Today, I decided to tell them the truth.
First, about my past life. Then, about Ma.

"What's that on your fa-" his eyes widened at the realisation of what it was. "Why do you have a bandaid on your forehead?! Nia, what is this?!" Namjoon looked like a panicking mother as he stood up to examine my face more properly. He traced some bruises on my arm, after lifting the sleeves up. My face didn't have that many marks, Ma made sure of it. He'd hurt the areas people couldn't see.

My heart.

"Di-did he do this?" It had been a week since I'd met the boys. They were too busy with the dance practice. 11 hours a day, for dance and the rest for singing and resting. I couldn't possibly intrude their resting time with my pathetic life.

"Yes, I've been meaning to talk to you bu-"
"Who are you?"
"What do you mean?"
"The Nia we know wouldn't be quiet with such bullying and abuse...look at you..." his voice fell into a pit of sadness and hurt. His eyes softened at me. I usually, always wore sleeveless shirts and shorts, or dresses. I was wearing full sleeved shirt and an ankle length pants.

"I'm still pretty, I suppose."
"Always."

I wanted to cry and have him hug me tightly as I'd describe how I'd given up on everything. Ma made me meet with Sohye's family three days ago. Told them that I was the one who bullied her, and pushed her to the edge. Her mother broke down and started to cry, she hit my chest frantically and slid down my body as she continued to cry. All the while I held back my own tears.

I was partially glad to have made that confession, it felt like a weight off of my chest. But for them, it was dreadful. They knew that the reason for their daughter's death was roaming around freely, walking on roads she'd walk on too, adoring the skies she'd adore too, being with people she'd have met too.

I was enjoying the luxuries she could've had, and I don't deserve.

"Namj-" Jin entered the practise room, and his widened at the sight of me. He dropped the clothes in his hand and walked faster towards me, and so did I. I hugged him tightly, as he held my head tact, my cheeks against his chest.