@lim_ar_3: #viral #goviral #islam #fypシ #انستا

𓆩lim_ar_3𓆪

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Wednesday 01 January 2025 12:32:09 GMT

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Comments

İbrahim*vael💙 :

ٍ

2025-01-02 20:27:49

0

ًســــــــيـــــــو :

اسمي مهم👆🏻

2025-01-01 13:22:42

32

هہديہكہ آلحہلبہيہهہ :

بالعكس 🖤

2025-01-01 20:01:13

40

𝐇 :

صح راح تخسر شخص بس ما راح يلكه مثلك

2025-01-01 23:00:04

51

أآوꪆم ألࢪوꪆࢪ🌸ᥫ :

شكلي وانا سويت هيك مع الشخص الي بحبني 🙂💔💀

2025-01-01 14:12:27

17

زهـيـــــــره🇦🇷 :

اتفق🙂💔

2025-01-02 15:18:44

5

آمًيَره♡: A: :

حقيقه والله 🥺

2025-01-01 20:10:22

10

(آبّــوُفـــيــّصـــلَ)(⑨①⑨) :

والله العظيم انا طبقت كلشي وبنهايا خسرت كلشي💔😔

2025-01-01 13:57:17

9

🌷ألاء 🌷 :

كي راك ؟

2025-01-02 21:12:35

2

مِـصِـمِـمِـ حً ـمِـوُدُ🔥☠️ :

تحبوني 🥀😞

2025-01-01 21:10:42

4

مهـيدِآن :

وعلي صحيح

2025-01-03 15:19:28

0

مهدي العقابي✨🦅 :

فعلآ

2025-01-02 22:07:59

0

لُــطُـ✍ـيَفَ➩☠☜♥ :

ما خسرت احد كلها خسرتني 😒

2025-01-03 15:04:17

2

(♀ارا🎖'.(★) (★)وخو🔥'♂¯) :

والله العظيم صح كلامك 💔💔💔💔

2025-01-03 20:43:18

1

Mohammed _Riad :

والله والله والله خسرت بنت بحبها كثير بسبب الصفات هذي 💔

2025-01-03 17:13:40

1

ᎠᎯᏁᎽᎯ :

والمشكلة كان اتجاهلته يسيبك ويقول أنك مش مهتم🤷💔

2025-01-03 14:01:33

0

almtmrc947 :

اقسم باالله انه صدق لا تعطو احد فوق قدره حتا لو كان غالي لنه والله بيدركك ويمشي اذا اكثرت الاهتمام به 💔😔💔😔

2025-01-01 22:06:23

4

beekoo2025 :

اخخخخ اخخخخخ اخخخخخخخخ اخخخخخخ🥺💔

2025-01-02 21:19:58

3

『حــســوN』🎩🪡 :

صــحــيــح😔🥀

2025-01-02 03:25:14

3

꧁꧂$-ÃĹĮ-$꧁꧂ :

افلح من نادى ياعلي 👈

2025-01-20 17:52:29

0

القيادة | اديـب <🇮🇶» :

كلمه دهب

2025-01-03 03:06:12

2

|||||||||||A||||||||||| :

سويتهم صارت تحبني اكثر 😉😏😏

2025-01-20 17:28:52

0

🇸 :

عامله باسلوب حلو واحترمه يعوفك

2025-01-02 19:10:21

2

Cn :

الدنيا كلها صارت مقلوبة 👍

2025-01-02 15:52:46

2

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😏🖤 ____________________________________ Aya loved the piano. It was her escape, her sanctuary. Every day after school, she would go to the music room, practicing long after her classmates had gone home. The room was spacious, with sunlight streaming through the large windows, casting golden hues on the polished wooden floor. The grand piano sat in the corner, its glossy surface reflecting the light. Aya felt most alive when her fingers danced across the keys, creating melodies that seemed to fill the room with magic. But there was a mystery about the music room. Students whispered about strange occurrences, claiming they’d heard piano notes late at night even though the room was always locked. Others spoke of fleeting shadows or cold breezes brushing past them near the piano. Some said the spirit of a girl haunted the room—a girl who had once been a brilliant pianist but met an untimely end. Aya dismissed the rumors as nonsense. She didn’t believe in ghosts. But one evening, something happened that made her question everything. It was a stormy day, and the rain battered the windows as Aya sat at the piano. The school was nearly empty, the corridors eerily silent. She was practicing a challenging piece, struggling to perfect a section when she heard it—a soft, delicate note played behind her. Aya’s hands froze. The sound hadn’t come from her piano. Slowly, she turned, her heart pounding. The room was empty. The other instruments were untouched, yet the sound had been unmistakable. Shaking off the unease, Aya tried to focus on her music. But as she played, she felt a presence. It was subtle at first, a faint chill in the air, but it grew stronger. Then, out of nowhere, the piano beside her—the one students rarely touched—began to play. Aya gasped, stumbling back. The notes were soft and deliberate, weaving a hauntingly beautiful melody. And then she saw her. A girl sat at the piano, her figure faint and shimmering like a mirage. She wore a school uniform, her long hair cascading over her shoulders. Her hands moved gracefully over the keys, yet there was a sadness in her posture, a heaviness that Aya could feel in the music. “Who... who are you?” Aya stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. The girl stopped playing and turned to Aya. Her face was pale, her eyes filled with sorrow. “I used to play here,” she said, her voice soft and distant. “This room was my haven. But I never got to finish my final piece.” Aya’s fear ebbed, replaced by a strange mix of sympathy and curiosity. “Your final piece?” The girl nodded. “I poured my heart into it, but I ran out of time. The storm that night… it took me away.” Aya’s chest tightened. “What do you mean? What happened to you?” The girl didn’t answer directly. Instead, she gestured to a dusty corner of the room. Aya followed her gaze and found an old, worn notebook resting on a shelf. She opened it and saw pages filled with sheet music, the notes intricately written. At the bottom of the last page, the melody abruptly stopped. “Please,” the girl whispered. “Help me finish it.” Aya hesitated, her fingers brushing the worn edges of the notebook. “How?” The girl looked at her with hopeful eyes. “Play it. Complete it. Let the music be heard.” Over the next few days, Aya devoted herself to the task. She studied the notebook, trying to understand the ghostly girl’s intent. Each time she played a section, the girl would appear, watching silently. Aya felt a strange connection, as if the girl’s emotions were flowing through her, guiding her hands. Finally, one evening, Aya completed the piece. She sat at the piano, her heart racing as she played the final, haunting notes. The music filled the room, echoing against the walls, carrying a blend of sorrow and triumph.

😏🖤 ____________________________________ Aya loved the piano. It was her escape, her sanctuary. Every day after school, she would go to the music room, practicing long after her classmates had gone home. The room was spacious, with sunlight streaming through the large windows, casting golden hues on the polished wooden floor. The grand piano sat in the corner, its glossy surface reflecting the light. Aya felt most alive when her fingers danced across the keys, creating melodies that seemed to fill the room with magic. But there was a mystery about the music room. Students whispered about strange occurrences, claiming they’d heard piano notes late at night even though the room was always locked. Others spoke of fleeting shadows or cold breezes brushing past them near the piano. Some said the spirit of a girl haunted the room—a girl who had once been a brilliant pianist but met an untimely end. Aya dismissed the rumors as nonsense. She didn’t believe in ghosts. But one evening, something happened that made her question everything. It was a stormy day, and the rain battered the windows as Aya sat at the piano. The school was nearly empty, the corridors eerily silent. She was practicing a challenging piece, struggling to perfect a section when she heard it—a soft, delicate note played behind her. Aya’s hands froze. The sound hadn’t come from her piano. Slowly, she turned, her heart pounding. The room was empty. The other instruments were untouched, yet the sound had been unmistakable. Shaking off the unease, Aya tried to focus on her music. But as she played, she felt a presence. It was subtle at first, a faint chill in the air, but it grew stronger. Then, out of nowhere, the piano beside her—the one students rarely touched—began to play. Aya gasped, stumbling back. The notes were soft and deliberate, weaving a hauntingly beautiful melody. And then she saw her. A girl sat at the piano, her figure faint and shimmering like a mirage. She wore a school uniform, her long hair cascading over her shoulders. Her hands moved gracefully over the keys, yet there was a sadness in her posture, a heaviness that Aya could feel in the music. “Who... who are you?” Aya stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. The girl stopped playing and turned to Aya. Her face was pale, her eyes filled with sorrow. “I used to play here,” she said, her voice soft and distant. “This room was my haven. But I never got to finish my final piece.” Aya’s fear ebbed, replaced by a strange mix of sympathy and curiosity. “Your final piece?” The girl nodded. “I poured my heart into it, but I ran out of time. The storm that night… it took me away.” Aya’s chest tightened. “What do you mean? What happened to you?” The girl didn’t answer directly. Instead, she gestured to a dusty corner of the room. Aya followed her gaze and found an old, worn notebook resting on a shelf. She opened it and saw pages filled with sheet music, the notes intricately written. At the bottom of the last page, the melody abruptly stopped. “Please,” the girl whispered. “Help me finish it.” Aya hesitated, her fingers brushing the worn edges of the notebook. “How?” The girl looked at her with hopeful eyes. “Play it. Complete it. Let the music be heard.” Over the next few days, Aya devoted herself to the task. She studied the notebook, trying to understand the ghostly girl’s intent. Each time she played a section, the girl would appear, watching silently. Aya felt a strange connection, as if the girl’s emotions were flowing through her, guiding her hands. Finally, one evening, Aya completed the piece. She sat at the piano, her heart racing as she played the final, haunting notes. The music filled the room, echoing against the walls, carrying a blend of sorrow and triumph.

essa trend é sobre biscoitar e tá tudobem, mas pra mim ela serviu como empoderamento já que aqui eu mostro a minha maior insegurança #fyyyp #fy #viral

essa trend é sobre biscoitar e tá tudobem, mas pra mim ela serviu como empoderamento já que aqui eu mostro a minha maior insegurança #fyyyp #fy #viral

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