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"If I ran away, I'd never have the strength to go very far. How would they hear the beating of my heart? Will it grow cold, the secret that I hide? Will I grow old? How will they hear? When will they learn? How will they know?"

~Live to Tell by Madonna~

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A/N: I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE THINKING!

"OH MY GOD, THIS AUTHOR IS ALIVE."

I don't know what's exactly been going on with me mentally, but I'm motivated enough to post SOMETHING for the first time in exactly three months. That's actually crazy. I hope this is a good chapter to come back to. Let me know what you think!

Warnings: abuse, addiction, anxiety, biphobia/homophobia, depression, domestic violence, gun violence, language, panic attacks, sexual harassment/assault/abuse, violence, weapons, and other mature themes

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Zion's POV

I don't know where I am. Everything is white. I feel like I'm enveloped by light... or a feeling. That's impossible.

I feel at peace. I feel light on my feet. I feel happiness. It's a strange feeling, but I welcome it despite my inhibitions. Whatever is here doesn't want to hurt me.

I feel like I'm ready for something. I don't know what, but I'm ready.

"Happy birthday, Star."

My insides crumble at the sound of his voice; I'd almost forgotten the sound of his voice.

"Dad?" I ask in wonder. I turn around and there he is, in this white light with me. I move closer to him, "Wait, am I dead?"

He chuckles, "No. This is just me visiting you in your dream."

"Oh," I look around nervously. I don't want something bad to happen to him.

"It's safe here. Inside your mind," my dad tells me.

"It never is," I shake my head. "You've missed so much..."

"I've seen everything, and I couldn't be more proud."

"You are? But, I've made bad choices-"

"We all do, Zion," he says. "But, you've worked on yourself. I've seen you grow. Away from your mother. Away from Cobra Kai. And into this beautiful young woman."

It dawns on me, "I'm eighteen?"

"Yeah. I knew you could make it here," he offers a hug.

I try not to cry and let out every emotion as he holds me. It feels so real. So real.

"I'm sorry for leaving you with your mom. Had I been stronger-"

"You didn't know," I remind him.

"I did," he frowns and pulls away from the hug. "I had a feeling. I just never knew how to fix it. I wanted my last days to be happy. Selfishly."

"Oh," my heart sinks.

"We all make bad choices," he reminds me. "Do you love me any less?"

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