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one week later, mingyu had chemistry again, and he wouldn't say that he was too exited. he'd gotten an f on his last test and that made him feel worse than he already was.

he returned to his only seat, like he did every week. lately, he had been questioning the school system a lot. why were you graded at all? what's the point in overall education if you could just learn things that are fun to you?

he sighed and took a seat. the sentence he had scribbled down a week ago was still there, but...

someone had written something underneath. 

mingyu took a closer look at his table. the answer was a little bit faded, but you could still see it properly.

ravioli ravioli
give me the death
i deservioli
r u sure that u want to die? bc lowkey same.

and a phone number written underneath. mingyu wrote it down onto his worksheet and tried to pay attention to his teacher, but his thoughts were always trailing back to the mysterious person that had answered him.

mingyu knew that the only way he could find out who that person was, was texting that phone number. it could be fake, though.

class ended quickly, as always, and mingyu left the classroom, leaving his desk alone.

who was that person?

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⏰ Last updated: Apr 08, 2017 ⏰

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