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Minho flopped into his desk chair and fumbled around his bag for the diary. He was determined to give the journal back to its rightful owner and he was willing to go odd but far lengths to do just that.

Minho opened to the first entry and began to read.

10/14/20

Dear diary? Or journal?

No, diary sounds better.

I'm not sure how to start off. Usually in my free time I write stories on computer documents that will never see the light of day. I put my greatest fantasies and creativity to use by always running through my imagination. I love creating stories. And I love writing. So maybe this diary thing shouldn't be too difficult.

As if you couldn't tell, I dream of being an author. It's something I've always been interested in. Seriously, I can't take my face out of the pages of a book. I read so many books ranging from teen dystopian universes, autobiographies, mysteries, sometimes even comic books. I want to be just like the famous authors, and hopefully be one myself. Imagine me painting my book with beautiful stories, so immersive that it moves people? I'd love to read emails from random people saying how much they loved my book, what they thought the ending was going to be, and how they imagine my characters after the time frame of the book.

Goodness, I really wanna read those emails.

I've never really tried writing my feelings on paper. I don't really feel the need to tell people what I think inside. I deem it unnecessary to burden anyone like that. I assume that's a reason I feel sad at points, but I don't want to delve into my problems just yet. Maybe I'll write down some experiences I want to remember, or maybe just the little things that bother me instead of the bigger dilemmas I face.

My parents want me to talk to them but I don't utter a word about what rushes through my mind. I always stare at them like I'm lost in space and can't comprehend a word they say. I don't want to bother them about my problems.

So they gave me this notebook. I can't necessarily get therapy, it's too expensive here. Although my family has a decent amount of money, it's too pricey for the income we have. They just want to help me, and that's okay. My parents just want the best for me.

Do I say a goodbye? Or sign the end of an entry like a letter? Do I even bother putting anything of the sort?

I'll figure it out later.

Minho shut the journal and pondered what he got from this entry. This person really likes books and reading. The anonymous person also desperately wanted to be a writer.

But Minho didn't know anyone who could possibly want to be a writer. So he searched for other clues he could grasp.

They wrote that their family isn't entirely rich...I think I could work with that.

Minho was content with the first clue he would put to use. He smiled and whipped out a piece of paper and a blue pen. He rummaged through his shelves and drawers to find his yearbook. He then flipped through the pages and jot down every name he could pinpoint. This way he can eliminate names along the way and dwindle down the suspects to one sole person.

The following day at school, Minho hatched his plan into action. It wasn't necessarily the best plan, but it would surely knock a few names on his list. He walked down the hall, ready to leap into strategy.

Kim Hongjoong walked up to Minho from the opposite end of the hallway. He raised his left arm to wave at Minho. "Hey Minho! What's u-"

Hongjoong was quickly cut off and confusion was plastered on his face as he watched Minho grab his arm and closely inspect the watch on his wrist. Hongjoong slowly cocked his head to the side and Minho unbuckled the watch and slipped it into his hand. "What a nice watch you have here."

dear diary, // minsungWhere stories live. Discover now