Moving

My parents say we are moving, but I don't want to, they can't make me.

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4. memories

I sigh as I heave my big box of belongings up the stairs, I feel like my parents, dragging me along even though I have made it very clear I want to stay put. I carefully place the box on my bed and start to unpack, I had unpacked mostly everything, this was just a box of "memories" I guess. I open it up and pick up a fluffy pink heart-shaped box and open it gently. I smile when I see old photos of me and Emma. There's one of us where we were really small, five or six and we are sitting in Emma's old blue paddling pool and you can see she's splashing around having a great time, and, of course there's me peering at the bottom of the shallow water, prepared for a shark to jump out and bite me. I look at some others as well but then I see the picture we had before I left, and before she replaced me. We were sitting on the long grass by the river and you could see we had ice creams, just when the photo was being taken we both got really freaked out when a dog the size of a horse ( ok, not literally ) came up to us and we dropped our ice creams onto the grass, you can see the fear and disappointment in our faces,but seriously we were laughing so hard it hurt.

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