The Diary Of Juste

The Diary Of Juste

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WpMetadataReadConcluida mar, ago 26, 20251h 42m
In a strange and silent world where time resets every night, 23-year-old Juste has lived the same day for four years. Trapped inside a vast retail park filled with empty shops, rusting fairground rides, and a skyline that never draws nearer, she is the only one awake to the repetition. With no people, no clocks that count forward, and no way out, Juste clings to the only object that remembers: her notebook. In its pages, she writes what she can no longer feel. She records what she forgets - not the facts, but the feelings. Her joys, her breakdowns, her philosophies, and her desperate attempts to make sense of the stillness. As her mind begins to fracture and reform, the diary becomes more than memory - it becomes her only mirror. But buried deep in her entries are flickers of change... and a question she can't let go of: Is this a punishment, a dream, or something she chose?
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psychologicalfiction
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Loving him was the cruelest kind of torment-a love that lived in the shadows, one that could never bask in the warmth of the sun. I was nothing more than a stolen moment, a whispered name in the dark, a secret he tucked away between the life he had built and the one he wished he could have. I knew, deep down, that I was a fracture in his story, a fleeting escape from the weight of his reality. And yet, I still clung to him, to the illusion that for a few precious hours, he was mine. But the truth was relentless-it came in the form of unanswered texts, in the way he dressed hurriedly after loving me, in the way he said her name with the same tenderness he once gave me. I had given him my heart, knowing he would never be able to keep it, and yet, I loved him still. Loved him as I watched him walk away, loved him as he returned to the arms of the woman he truly belonged to, loved him as I drowned in the loneliness he left behind. Because no matter how much I wished it to be different, I was not his home-I was just a place he visited before going back to where his heart truly lived.

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