Frozen Veins

"Hey sweetheart. Dad apologizes for not being able to talk earlier. I've been busy. I've sent some money your way; go treat yourself and your mom to a shopping spree. I promise to call you soon."

Y/n's eyes remained fixed on her phone screen, absorbing her father's message. Despite her attempt to reach out two days ago, his lack of response had left her hanging. Now, faced with his belated message and the notification of funds deposited into her account, she maintained her composure.

"$$$$ amount credited to your account"

With a detached demeanor, she replied, "it's okay, dad. Waiting for your call."

Yet, beneath her calm exterior, disappointment simmered, a silent acknowledgment of the familiar letdown she anticipated.

Y/n read the message once more, a dry chuckle escaping her lips. Emotionless and cold, she was accustomed to masking her true feelings, her demeanor often mistaken for arrogance. The idea of going shopping with her stepmother elicited a cynical response; she knew better than to trust her.

With a resigned sigh, she closed her notebooks and retreated to the sanctuary of her bathroom. Standing beneath the frigid cascade of the shower, fully clothed, she sought solace in the numbing cold. To her, the chill was a welcomed escape, a means of dulling the overwhelming emotions that threatened to consume her.

At just 23 years old, Y/n bore the weight of a lifetime's worth of trials. A university student navigating the complexities of adulthood, she had learned to weather life's harshest storms from a young age. Her innocence shattered at the tender age of 11, when her mother's untimely death shattered their once happy family. In the aftermath, her father sought solace in a new marriage, unaware of the darkness that lurked beneath his new wife's facade.

Initially, Y/n's stepmother had appeared caring and nurturing, filling the void left by her mother's absence. However, it didn't take long for her true colors to emerge, revealing a cruel and manipulative nature. The once-loving caretaker transformed into a tormentor, subjecting Y/n to unimaginable cruelty and heartache.

Despite her tender age, Y/n had become intimately acquainted with life's darkest hues, each hardship etching its mark upon her soul.

Y/n's life took a tragic turn when her stepmother ensnared her in a web of abuse from which she could not escape. Day after day, she endured unspeakable torment, each experience carving deeper into her soul, leaving her numb to the world around her. The relentless cruelty she faced left her devoid of emotion, her heart encased in ice, indifferent to the existence of those around her.

As if the loss of her mother wasn't enough, her father's abandonment plunged her further into despair. Fleeing the country just a month after her mother's passing, he initially maintained contact with Y/n, offering a semblance of support. However, his calls eventually ceased, leaving Y/n to face her demons alone for the past 18 months.

Left to navigate life's challenges without guidance or support, Y/n found herself adrift, robbed of the simple joys and opportunities her peers enjoyed. While others her age embarked on adventures and forged connections, Y/n remained trapped in a cycle of suffering, her spirit crushed under the weight of her circumstances.

Y/n existed in a perpetual state of pain, a constant companion that had become all too familiar. Yet, she had mastered the art of concealing her turmoil, projecting an image of cold composure to the outside world. Behind her stoic facade, she carried the weight of her suffering in silence, unwilling to let others glimpse the depths of her agony. Emotions were a luxury she could not afford, so she buried them deep within, determined to maintain her icy exterior even in the face of her relentless torment.

Y/n's icy exterior had become more than just a facade; it was a shield, a barrier that protected her from the relentless torment of her daily existence. Wrapped in its cold embrace, she found a semblance of safety, a cocoon that shielded her from the worst of her pain. Yet, beneath the frosty veneer, a fear lingered—a fear of what lay beyond, of the unknown terrors that awaited her should she dare to escape her cage.

Despite the agony she endured, the thought of breaking free filled her with a deep-seated dread. The familiarity of her suffering, as suffocating as it was, offered a twisted sense of comfort, a perverse sanctuary she was hesitant to leave behind. Trapped between the agony of her reality and the uncertainty of the outside world, she remained paralyzed, her icy mask both her refuge and her prison.

Y/n's stepmother's life revolved around a destructive cycle of hedonism—clubs, alcohol, sex and casual encounters consumed her existence. Oblivious to the needs of her stepdaughter, she squandered every penny of Y/n's father's hard-earned money on her own selfish desires. Meanwhile, Y/n suffered in silence, enduring the emotional torment inflicted by her stepmother's neglect and cruelty. Despite her father's belief that his daughter was being cared for, the reality was far from it. Y/n felt the weight of her stepmother's indifference every moment of the day, her spirit slowly withering under the relentless onslaught of neglect and mistreatment.

The scars that mar Y/n's body tell a silent, harrowing tale of unspeakable pain and cruelty inflicted upon her by her stepmother. Each scar is a testament to the horrors she endured, a physical reminder of the torment that has left its indelible mark upon her soul. The torcher committed against her are too agonizing to put into words, too monstrous to comprehend. They have left Y/n broken and battered, her spirit bruised and battered, her innocence stolen by the one who was meant to protect her.

These scars will remain etched upon her body for the rest of her days, a constant reminder of the darkness she faced and the resilience she demonstrated in surviving it. They serve as a solemn vow to never forget the pain she endured.

And though the wounds may heal, the scars will always remain, bearing witness to the unspeakable horrors Y/n endured at the hands of her stepmother.

Amidst Y/n's icy exterior and the torment inflicted upon her, there existed another figure on campus—Kim Taehyung. Handsome, with an enigmatic allure that drew others to him like moths to a flame, he was the epitome of charisma and allure. Universally admired, Taehyung possessed a magnetic presence that demanded attention wherever he went. With a physique sculpted to perfection and talents that extended beyond the classroom to the sports field, he seemed to effortlessly excel in all endeavors.

Yet, beneath his confident exterior lay a complexity that mirrored Y/n's own inner turmoil. While he exuded confidence and charm, there was a depth to him that few could penetrate. Like Y/n, he carried his own burdens, his past shrouded in mystery and pain.

In the midst of the party's vibrant atmosphere, Kim Taehyung stood out in his elegant black velvet suit, commanding attention effortlessly. Surrounded by admirers, both girls and boys, he seemed to exude an aura of celebrity status—a reputation well-deserved as the son of a prominent future assembly man.

But behind the facade of glamour and adoration lay a darker truth—a truth known only to Taehyung and those closest to him. His father, revered by society as an ideal father figure, harbored a monstrous secret, hidden behind a mask of kindness and understanding. To Taehyung, he was not a loving parent but a manipulative puppet master, using his adoptive son as a pawn in his ruthless pursuit of political power.

As Taehyung conversed with the girl, unaware of the storm brewing in his adoptive father's mind, the old man's gaze fell upon them from a distance. His blood simmered with fury at the sight of another encroaching upon what he deemed his territory. How dare they touch what belonged to him? To the future assembly man, Taehyung was nothing more than a pawn, a disposable asset to be manipulated for his own gain.

With a calculated facade of joviality, he strode purposefully towards Taehyung, his steps heavy with suppressed rage. As he reached his side, he delivered a playful pat to Taehyung's back, a mask of laughter concealing the seething resentment beneath.

"Ah, Taehyung, my boy!" he exclaimed, his voice laced with false warmth. "Having a good time, I see? You always manage to attract a crowd, don't you?" His words dripped with saccharine sweetness, belying the venomous intent behind them.

As his father's laughter rang out, Taehyung's entire body tensed with pain, his white shirt likely marred with the evidence of his recent torment. The sound of his father's amusement triggered a vivid flashback to just two hours earlier.

In his adoptive father's office, Taehyung had stood vulnerable and exposed, clad only in his underwear.

Each crack of the belt against his bare skin had sent waves of excruciating pain coursing through his body. It was a punishment meted out as a chilling warning, a reminder of who held the reins of power in their twisted relationship. By the time his father was finished, Taehyung's back bore the crimson marks of his father's brutality, the wounds still fresh and raw.

Now, amidst the revelry of the party, Taehyung's stoic facade masked the agony he endured. His eyes, however, betrayed a tumultuous mix of pain and defiance—a silent testament to the torment he suffered and the resilient spirit that refused to be broken.

Yet, despite the searing pain that radiated from his wounded back, Taehyung donned a flawless facade—a beautiful, fake smile that masked the anguish etched into every fiber of his being. To the outside world, he appeared as the epitome of a dutiful son, obedient and loyal to his beloved monster of a father.

With practiced ease, Taehyung navigated the party, charming and affable, his every move calculated to please the man who had inflicted such cruelty upon him. Behind his sparkling eyes and winsome grin, however, lurked a silent rebellion—a defiance that simmered just beneath the surface, waiting for the opportune moment to break free from the shackles of his father's control.

As he mingled with the crowd, playing the role of the dutiful son, Taehyung's heart remained heavy with the weight of his secret pain. But for now, he would continue to wear his mask, biding his time until he could break free from the suffocating grip of his beloved monster father.

Despite the darkness that enveloped his life, Taehyung found moments of warmth and light in the presence of three cherished friends—Jimin, Jackson, and Jungkook. To him, they were more than just companions; they were his lifeline, his source of solace and joy in a world fraught with pain and betrayal.

In the company of Jimin's infectious laughter, Jackson's unwavering loyalty, and Jungkook's boundless optimism, Taehyung found respite from the burdens that weighed heavily upon him. Their friendship was a beacon of hope in the darkness, a reminder that amidst the chaos, there were still reasons to smile and find joy in life.

Though they may be unaware of the true extent of his suffering, Jimin, Jackson, and Jungkook were the pillars of strength that held Taehyung upright, grounding him in moments of despair and lifting his spirits when they threatened to falter. With them by his side, he found the courage to endure, to fight for a future where happiness wasn't just a fleeting illusion, but a tangible reality worth striving for.

At the age of 15, Taehyung's adoption had seemed like the start of a new chapter filled with hope and happiness, a respite from the hardships of the orphanage.

However, by the time he reached 23, that very day became etched in his memory as the darkest and most devastating moment of his life. The realization dawned upon him that the family he had hoped would bring him solace and love had instead become a source of unimaginable pain and betrayal.

The contrast between his initial optimism and the harsh reality he faced at 23 made that day a stark reminder of the shattered dreams and shattered trust that had defined his journey from the orphanage to his adoptive family.

Be careful, it's not like other tales of hardship and resilience. It's a tale of pain, abuse and politics.

To be continued 💚 👀

Here I am writing it again, I hope it doesn't gets deleted again.😭