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"It's hard to just watch you being taken away from me and not being able to do a thing"
.
.
.
.
"What if there is no end to this case ? What if I just put you in danger? What will I do ?"

.
.
.
."Even if I lose my life as long as I'm with you, happy i am too ,
.
.
.

.....

""

.....

Thanks for choosing "still healing" as your reading choice. This book is written based on my imagination. Any other book similar or with similar scenarios are all a coincidence. Don't be silent readers, vote and comment your opinions.

Ⓒ︎Adinaadiana15

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TW!!!🚨⚠️
Ab*se
Mature content
Emotional/fisical abuse
R*pe
Matured language

This TW goes to the all book


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"i like dancing in the rain cause no one can see my tears "


He trudged home through the cold rain, droplets clinging to his hair and running down his face, blurring with the tears he wouldn’t let himself shed.

Each step felt heavier than the last, his shoes squelching in the puddles that dotted the cracked sidewalk.

The rain was steady, relentless, falling in a rhythm that matched the hollow thud of his heartbeat.

As he reached his house, he paused at the door, breathing in the damp air, savoring the last moments before he had to go inside.

His hand hovered over the doorknob.

He knew what waited for him on the other side, but there was no avoiding it.

Taking a shallow breath, he pushed the door open.

Before he could speak, a rough hand struck his face.

The slap echoed through the small entryway, and he stumbled, the sting spreading across his cheek.

His father stood there, eyes dark with anger and impatience.

“Where’s the money?” he demanded.

Without a word, he pulled a crumpled wad of bills from his pocket and threw it onto the floor.

His father bent down to pick it up, muttering curses under his breath, but he had already turned away, heading to his room.

Once inside, he leaned back against the door, letting out a shaky breath.

His room was dim, the only light coming from a small, cracked lamp on his nightstand.

He glanced around, taking in the peeling wallpaper and the single bed pushed against the wall.

It wasn’t much, but it was the only place in the house where he felt any semblance of safety.

As he crossed the room, he could hear his parents’ voices rising again, arguing over the money he’d just given them.

Still Healing  || JikookWhere stories live. Discover now