jungkook's eyes open, he scrambled out of his bed, grabbing his sticky notes off of his nightstand he begins to scribble down the event of his dream.

a young boy, named taehyung, face unidentified, occupied a sharp piece of glass from a bottle of sort, it's dunked in blood, his father is on the floor, lifeless. taehyung killed him (?)

FATE: MURDER

the boy heaves a sigh, another dream, another scenario he probably won't be able to change.

jungkook sticks the coloured paper to a large white board, he stares at it for a while, his mind flowing with thoughts.

every time a dream like this encountered, he would see the person shortly after, whether in public transport, the nearest fucking corner, but jungkook knew he couldn't change these fates, these scenarios of strangers he dreamt of. he had tried, so many fucking times.

they would dismiss him, call him crazy.

fate is fate it's unchangeable.

every time a life was lost, jungkook felt partially responsible, he saw it ahead of time, he thought he had the power to change it.

rather than dreams they were nightmares to jungkook.

because they were real. so fucking real.

the dream would occur every single night until the fate of the event had been met.

until the person had died.

the boy clenched his jaw, curling his fingers into fists.

he wanted this time to be different, he was sick of having the knowledge yet not the strength. he felt pathetic.

jungkook stuck the note onto the board, his eyes lingered on the name 'taehyung.'

he wanted to save taehyung.