I'm standing at the edge of the pathway, my hair cut, and my memory scarred. I have a bomb in my hand, staring at the ground as if to try and make it seem like it was some freak accident. Then, I hear your footsteps. They're yours because of your voice. Jinx: I don't wanna talk, Y/N. There's a red mask surrounding her eyes, meaning she's been crying. (Finish from here).
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