Author's Note: This is a #JusticeForKian inspired story.
I made this story with this particular fanfiction format, not to romanticize the pain that the parents of Kian went through, but to make the readers at least try to fathom the pain of losing a child to an injustice that you have no power over. What happened to Kian was absolutely terrible and it still is. it's our job to make sure that the corruption, the injustice, and the lies are brought out to the public. We have the right to fight for our human rights, and we have the right to choose the government that makes sure we keep those rights.
It's been a few years since the murder, but the extra-judicial killings still happen, and the search for justice for all the victims are never going to stop.
I offer my condolences to the family of the victims of the EJKs.
Y/N - your name (obviously)
S/N - Son's name
H/N - Husband's name
SR/N - Surname
H/C - Hair color
E/C - Eye color
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"Ms. (Y/N)?"
Your head shot up as you heard your name. You quickly dusted your jeans and fixed your hair as you stood up and walked over to the counter.
"Uh yes that would be me, what's the update miss?" You asked in a shaky, tired voice as you handed her a folder filled with papers hoping to change a path of a certain someone.
The woman in her early-sixties looked up and scrutinized your appearance with her cold spectacled gaze. You saw her lips coated in russet red purse in disapproval at your presence.
Internally, you felt insecure under her gaze yet, you just gave her your best smile, as she rolled her eyes and opened and the folder and scanned through the documents.
As the woman scanned the files that contained the evidence, you battled the furious scream that wanted to burst from your lips.
The exhausted, enraged scream addressed to the world for it to realize its injustice.. But instead you held it back.
It wouldn't change anything but only make things worse.
You couldn't help but break down a little more with your overwhelming thoughts.
Your (H/C) hair was frizzed and barely combed. Generous amounts of concealer were applied under your eyes trying to cover the sleepless nights, yet with all that you couldn't hide anything. Your eyes, they gave it all away. The tired nights of searching for evidence, the early mornings you'd find yourself in the dark crying, it was all there, embedded in your two (E/C) orbs.
You were eventually snapped out of your thoughts as the woman clicked her tongue in annoyance whilst raising an eyebrow at you.
You forced a sheepish smile across your face.
"Forgive me ma'am, I wasn't listening can you please repeat what you said?"
The woman rolled her eyes once again.
"I said, these papers show no evidence whatsoever even a person who knows nothing of criminology can tell." She said, returning the papers back to you.
"No... No.." You scrambled as you took the papers and pointed your finger at the written text.
You were pointing at the desk, but looking at the woman directly. You could feel the heat in your eyes as tears welled up within them. The woman looked shocked from your sudden outburst, a glimmer of sympathy twinkled in her eyes.
YOU ARE READING
The Mental Labyrinth
Short Story"When she was sad, she wrote. When she was happy, she wrote. Everytime she felt nothing or everything she wrote. It was her ace. It saved her from the overwhelming thoughts 'round her labyrinth." - Anonymous ~This is a compilation of short stories...
