DaWin / DamWin AU
My imagination
Eighteen-year-old Anawin, silenced by trauma and tormented by bullies, writes dark tales of vengeance in his diary. One fateful night, his blood spills on the pages under a full moon, making his chilling stories co...
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. . . . .
Anawin clutched his diary to his chest, tears faded stream down his face while sleeping. This diary was more than just a book to him; it was a precious gift from his mother, who had died in a tragic car accident when he was just a child.
He had been in the car with her, but only he survived. The trauma of that day had stolen his voice, leaving him in a world of silence.
His mother had given him the diary shortly After the accident. "Write your dreams and fears, Anawin", she had said, her smile warm and loving. "It will help you find your peace."
Those words had stayed with him, and the diary had become his sanctuary, a place where he could pour out his heart. . . . . . The next morning, Everyone was in shock. News spread quickly that Jikarat had been found dead, his body discovered in an alley near his home.
The details of his death were gruesome, and the manner in which he had died was eerily similar to the description in Anawin's story.
At school, the atmosphere was tense. Students whispered in hushed tones, and teachers tried to maintain order.
Anawin sat in the back of his class, his mind racing. Could it really be a coincidence? He thoughts with a stiffen expression.
During lunch, Perm and Min cornered Anawin. Their usual bravado was gone, replaced by fear and suspicion.
"Did you have something to do with this?" Perm hissed, his eyes wide with fear. "His dead, and you were the last one to see him."
Anawin shook his head disapprovingly, his heart pounding. He tried to convey his innocence with his eyes, but the boys were too scared to notice.
"Stay away from us, freak," Min warned as he showed him punch, backing away. "If we find out you had anything to do with this, you'll regret it."
As they walked away, Anawin felt a mix of relief and dread. He had to be careful. If the bullies suspected him, his life could become even more difficult.
Yet, a part of him couldn't shake the feeling of satisfaction that justice, however twisted, had been served.
That night, Anawin sat by his window, his diary open before him. He hesitated, his pen hovering over the page.
