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The doll whooshed above his head as it flew around the room. It swirled this way and that, looped the lamps and spun around the sofa. It stopped, hovered in the air as sounds from around the corner alerted him to activity. It listened. Outside, the sound of a man could be heard behind the closing of a door. An intruder. In the utmost silence, he backed up against the wall beside the opening into the hallway and waited. Footsteps approached. Shoes kicked off feet and tumbled to the ground. Adrenaline surged through him as they neared closer and closer and closer and-
“Stop right there!”
“Gotcha!”
Hands picked him up from his underarms and in the next second he was lifted high off the ground. The doll fell from his grasp. The thud from it dropping on the ground was drowned out by the squeals and laughter, the yells and roars. The man raised him higher and spun until the boy was overcome with a dizziness so extreme his tongue caught in his throat, twisted and choked his laughter. His stomach rolled. It was the best feeling in the world.
When the man stopped they were both breathing harshly, a giggle escaping between each restoration of oxygen.
“That was fun!” the boy exclaimed, the first to gather his energy.
“Yeah? You like flying?” his dad asked. He put the boy back on his feet. He wobbled for a few seconds, watched the disoriented room sway like one saw a hazy mirage in a desert until it eventually settled.
“I want to go flying,” the boy said. He followed his father into the kitchen, their stomachs rumbling the stronger the scent of sizzling chicken became.
“We’ll go one day. That sound good?”
“When? Soon?”
They helped set the small table with plates and cutlery, placed the dishes of food on every available space and sat around it.
“When we can afford it,” his father said. “Flying is expensive.”
“But why?” he asked.
“It takes a lot of energy to fly,” he answered around a mouthful of rice. “The plane, the fuel, the baggage. And where would we fly to? Prices depend on the destination.”
“To the sky.”
He imagined sweet clouds swallowing him. Cold air like ice but he would be heated, blood pumping so ferociously the air would be beautifully chilling. He would fly higher and higher but it would look like the stars would be falling to him. Just for him.
Maybe he could even fly to the moon. It was so far away but it always looked out for the Earth, looked on longingly at all the life flourishing on the warm planet. It was all alone. He could be a friend to the moon.
“Stop feeding him lies,” his mother finally spoke. She didn’t even look at his father, eyes down at her plate. She had yet to take a bite. “You always make promises you can’t keep. Save Jungkook your nonsense.”
“You’ll have to work really hard if you want to reach that far,” his dad chuckled, ignoring Jungkook's mother. “Being an astronaut is no easy feat. We’ll start off small. Go somewhere not too far, somewhere cheap. See how you feel about the pressure changes and everything. You have a lifetime ahead of you full of flying to look forward to. Just remember to work hard and we’ll fly to the stars together.”
It was all he thought about before sleep sat heavy on his eyelids and drenched him in its dreams. He was always somewhere new every night. On the first night he was in his bedroom standing by the open window. He stood on the ledge, raised his hand and the wind picked him up, lifting him into the sky. Another night he was running in a forest, either away from something or towards something, he didn’t know. It was exhilarating, faster and faster and faster, so fast his legs blurred until he flew.
Sometimes he was like a superhero flying with his might. Other times he would be in a plane, sitting on top with his arms outstretched, in a helicopter, as a bird, on a dragon. The possibilities were limitless.
His favourite was when wings burst from the skin of his back. They were always a different kind, sometimes big, small, white, black, colourful. Sometimes they were neat, other times they were messy, feathers falling loose with a single turn, drops of hope to the people beneath. It never hurt when hidden bones stretched, split apart his skin and ripped through into the open. A shoot of heat, like a star zipping across the night sky trailed along his back and then, like water gushing through a broken roof, he felt alive.
***
It was Jungkook’s only memory of his father that wasn’t withered from poisoned words. He couldn’t remember much between that memory and that of his father walking out the door for the last time. Everything was clouded in shadows so dark he knew they would never return, lost forever.
After his father had left and his mother welcomed new people into their house, the dreams of flying stopped. Laying in bed he still thought of it, vivid imaginings that had him toppling off his bed. But as soon as consciousness was stolen from him his dreams were empty.
So, he drew them instead. In school he would doodle wings around the edges of his books, etch birds and feathers into the table, and when he was sentenced to the detention room after some smacks he drew them on the walls in there. Every he went he left those little markings of flight, a symbol of freedom, hope, escape.
Soon he forgot about his dreams of flying. The pulsating of his skin before his wings spread dissipated. Whenever he tried to feel it again his skin would itch, the kind that irritates beneath the skin and no matter how much he would try to scratch out the pain it never obeyed him. No one noticed the red lines marking his back, the stains of blood on his t-shirts or bed sheets, the skin beneath his nails.
Slaps from his step brother stinging the fresh wounds. Changing his clothes with his bedroom door left open, hearing his mother walk past in silence. She saw. He met her eyes in the mirror. His eyes heavy with some emotion that he couldn't name, pleading for something. She walked away. She ways walked away. Jungkook thought her betrayal was worse than his father's. At least he had the decency to abandon him completely. Looking at her every day, pretending to be a family. She kept him only because she had to. For the sake of maintaining the image of a wounded, loving mother.
He lost his dreams of flying, buried his hope in the pages and walls of his life.
And he remembered that his father had never kept his promise of taking Jungkook to the sky.
***
He didn’t remember how they decided to go bungee jumping, but one day they all found themselves climbing the stairs to the platform on some old building at the edge of town.
“Whose smart idea was this?” Tae grumbled, hands gripping the railings on either side of him.
No one answered, their pants filling the air between them. No one could actually remember whose idea it was. Perhaps they’d seen something on the small TV in the trailer, maybe it was inspired by the wall on the beach overlooking the large expanse of sea. No matter who suggested it, the majority had agreed, dragged along the less enthusiastic and were on their way to jump off the edge of a building. Jungkook couldn’t wait.
“Are we sure this is even safe?” Tae continued. “Is this legit? The price seemed too cheap for something legal.”
“This isn’t legal?” Hoseok screeched, coming to a sudden halt. Jimin stumbled into his back. Fisting his top, he urged him on.
“It is,” Jin said. “I made sure it had all the safety checks and procedures. You won’t die. Not here.”
Jungkook noticed the smile flicker on his face, but as quick as it had wobbled it was fixed back in place, his eyes curling into their amused crescents.
They reached the top and stopped, admiring the view of the sky on the horizon of the town. It wasn’t quite dusk, the sun still high up and shining through the grey clouds.
“I can see the trailer from here,” Namjoon said. He pointed it out to the others, swapped positions so they could see better. Jungkook couldn’t see it despite stretching himself this way and that, jerking Yoongi in the process. The older boy grabbed his arm, moved him in front of himself and pointed over his shoulder beyond the train tracks that peeked between the buildings. There it was. The light was off but it still stood out amongst the others.
“Okay, who wants to go first?” Jin clapped his hands.
The trailer was like an anchor throughout the afternoon. Between the preparations for each jump Jungkook found himself looking over the town and settling on the trailer. Like the pull of home calling to him.
He couldn’t remember laughing so much before. As each of his friend’s leaped off the building, some enthusiastically, others squealing from the fear, he collapsed into a roar of laughter so intense he couldn’t hold himself up, falling to the floor. Yoongi helped him up, and once he was gone for his turn, his usually straight face stretched out into a scream, Namjoon and Jimin were left beside him.
Jin was the first to go, his playfulness disappearing once he caught sight of distance to the ground. The people told him to relax and not look down, but his nerves were so wired he just blinked at them, deaf to their instructions. So when he stood on the platform the first thing he did was look down and he alsmot ran back to the others. Watching him flap in the air like a baby bird had them all leaning on each other and gasping for breath. When he reached land he laughed and said he felt like crying. Feeling energised just from watching Jungkook couldn’t help but swell with pride for his eldest friend and, without thinking, began smacking his bum when he reunited with them. Jin and Namjoon laughed, commented on Jungkook’s cuteness, and diverted their attention to the next jumper, Taehyung.
By the time it was Jungkook’s turn the sun had spilled its light across the sky and melted into night. The darkness sunk to the earth. A world cast in shadows. He looked down, saw the shimmers of the night reflected in the lake. Excited clouds swirled. The moon looked up at him from the ripples. His eyes stayed fixed on it as the harness was strapped to his body.
Standing on the edge of the platform he couldn’t take his eyes off the dark expanse below him. Arms outstretched, he leaped. The wind pulled tears from his eyes, cold against his hot skin. He grinned and cheered and howled. Air rushed into his lungs, so much he thought he would choke on it. His stomach descended to his throat as he looked at the world upside down, and he found himself falling to the moon. When the bungee cord reached its limit Jungkook was pulled back up. He waved his arms as it took him away from the moon, desperate to be closer again.
In what seemed like no time at all his feet were firmly back on land. His heart thumped erratically in his chest and stomach dropped back to where it belonged. He stared at nothing, out into the darkness lost in a daze. He wanted to go again. He was so close to touching the moon, to flying. If only he wasn’t connected to the bungie. He would have done it. He would have felt the sky and embraced the clouds and touched the moon.
As soon as he returned to the others they all clapped him on the back.
“You were fearless! You didn’t even wait for the countdown to finish,” Hoseok laughed as he hugged the younger boy around the shoulders.
“There was a countdown?” Jungkook asked, sinking beneath the hands. He hadn’t meant to ignore the people there, couldn’t hear them over the sky’s alluring whispers.
“It’s okay, it was more for your benefit than theirs,” Namjoon said.
“I’m glad we went,” he said as they walked the streets. The diluted flutter in his stomach still danced.
“Yeah, it was fun,” Jimin agreed.
Yoongi was walking a few paces behind them. Jungkook slowed down until he fell into step with him.
“What did you think, Yoongi?” Jungkook asked, shoving his hands into his pocket.
“It was good,” Yoongi said. “I liked it. It felt good just falling.”
Jungkook nodded. They walked in silence back to the trailer.
When Jungkook woke up the next morning the flutter was gone and his back itched.
***
It was the middle of the night when Jungkook walked out of the front door. No one stopped him. It was a hot night, so humid he could taste his sweat dripping down his face. He didn’t know where to go, but a restless energy buzzed within him and he just needed to move. He walked around the town and found himself outside the trailer. The lights were on. Namjoon was probably in there, or Taehyung. Taehyung spent more time there than he admitted but his growing collection of belongings didn't fool any of them. Jungkook turned around and carried on walking.
He wondered if any of the others ever felt like this. They all had jobs to consume their energy, hobbies and talents to pour themself into. Jungkook had nothing. He tried doing odd jobs around the neighbourhood, mowing lawns, dog walking, taking out rubbish, but he had a reputation, his whole family stained indelibly with the departure of his father. Everyone kept their distance, only daring to step closer to show him what a pathetic person he was, to give him the treatment he deserved, show him where he belonged.
He heard the whispers and rumours. They followed him to school. Lewd sniggers about his mother’s virtue, the conspiracies of his father, the degrading accusations about him.
If anything Jungkook wished some of them were true. The truth was pitiful. He wasn’t worth the natural sacrifice and effort of a parent, wasn't worth their selfless love. He just wasn’t worth it.
But for a short period of time he was worth it. He felt the love even through false hopes. He was worth that much. He was taught the capacity to dream big and unhindered. He just had to hold onto it. That was his duty. Fuck everything else.
By the time he reached the roof of the tallest building in town his shirt was ripped and his lip bloodied. His back stung, and he was sure the marks had reopened. It felt good to feel them again. He never shied away from passing the delinquents that lingered around the alleys. In fact, he made a point to grab their attention. Whistling loudly through their chatter, walking in the middle of them, standing by and laughing into the open air. Hands grabbed him, pushed him against brick walls. Fists hitting every part of him. When nothing seemed to stop his manic laughter he would be held upside down, swung around and the flutter would return.
A slight breeze blew through the air. Jungkook looked up to the sky. The moon was somewhere behind the mass of clouds. A plane flew in the distance. It broke through the clouds and disappeared. He followed its route and seconds later it emerged on the other side. The people inside got to fly through the clouds. They must have seen what magic it held inside. Maybe they could even taste its essence as well. Was it as sweet as he had once imagined?
He stepped up on the ledge, spread out his arms. The breeze whipped around him, howled in the night.
Below a few cars littered the roads. He wondered if his father was in one of them. Did he see the plane, too? Was he dreaming of flying through the clouds?
A flutter in his stomach. A hot itch crawling along his back. The clouds split apart and the light of the moon shone through. It was mesmerising.
Jungkook closed his eyes. The breeze was cool along his heated skin, like the spray of a waterfall drifting over him. He wanted to feel it again, the thrill of being suspended in the air, of being carried in the wind. Weightless. Free. This is euphoria, Jungkook thought, and he smiled as he fell to the sky.