Having a daughter is hard, but there's nothing harder than raising a teenage daughter as a single father after a move halfway across the country. Kim Seokjin didn't think things could get any harder, until his teenage daughter started to prefer the...
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𝕋𝕨𝕠| "𝕀𝕟𝕥𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕎𝕠𝕠𝕕𝕤"
This was it—no turning back. What would await me when I opened that lid? Buried treasure? A monster? A parallel universe? All three?? The possibilities were endless! As I open the lid, I was shocked to be greeted by...nothing. Sigh.
But I furrow my brows in confusion when I see nothing but black. Huh. Guess Yoongi's story was simply a story. There's nothing down there, but darkness. I sigh in defeat as I stand back up, and go to head home, until the rain picks up, a heavy gust of wind suddenly sending me tumbling backwards towards the well.
"No!" I shout, knowing if I fell anymore in that direction I was going to trip and fall down into the well.
But it was too late. The wind knocked the force out of me, and I'd fallen down the rabbit hole. However, when I fall down the well, it's not pitch black anymore, instead, it's bright shades of blues and purples.
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When I finally land at the seemingly bottom, I land on my ass, back in the Pink Palace. Only—this place didn't look like our apartment. I mean, it did, but it didn't. It was different, that was for sure. I'd noticed that the ugly painting of the boy holding his ice cream was not as ugly as it was in our flat, and this time, the boy hadn't dropped his ice cream, and he was smiling a real smile.
When I crawl out of the well/portal/thing fully, I stand up out through the same well, into what looks like the EXACT SAME LIVING ROOM I'd just left. Only again, it's definitely different. It feels deeper, and more dimensional. I make my way out of the drawing room and near the kitchen where I hear the sound of a male humming. I realize it's my dad. But I'm confused. How did the painting change, and I thought my dad went into town? What was going on?
"Dad?" I call. "I thought you left to go to town. When did you come back?"
He finally turns around. "You're just in time for dinner, princess." He says, but when he turns around, I realize he isn't my father.
This man looked just like my father, the only differences being that he had jet black hair, whereas my dad had a peachy-blond head of hair, and two shiny black buttons covered where my father's chocolate brown eyes w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ should be. He smiles brightly at me, but I don't reciprocate the action.
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"You're not my father." I state. "My father doesn't have..."
