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Mom was nowhere to be seen. Not that it really mattered.
I was back to sitting on my bed, running my hand over the covers.
What was the point of living if I was going to die in fifty-five days?
What was the point of prolonging my suffering?
My mom told me to live the rest of my days to its full, but the cancer wasn't just in my pancreas.
Its darkness poisoned my mind, crumbling the world around me.
How could I enjoy this life any longer?
I began to think for a blade.
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65 Days Left || P.JM
FanfictionWe were reckless. How did we get from kissing to you pinning me to the wall to us both on the floor in a tangle of limbs? We made an explosion that day, Park Jimin. And now, we are suffering the consequences of it.
