Lights Will Guide You Home

This is my story. ©


2. wrighting a song


With a deep sigh I fell on the small, pale red couch. I was devastated, because I had the whole afternoon my stuff in all holes that I could find in this house crammed. The kitchen cupboards were filled me all the stuff we had previously bought my wardrobe in the small room was completely filled to the brim with all my clothes. In the living room were some smaller boxes, but I would later turn out. Water, I need water. I hoisted myself out of the couch and walked to the kitchen, where I filled a glass with tap water. One, two, three. It seemed like I was dehydrated. When my throat felt slightly less dry, I went back and looked around the room. I could not quite comprehend that all this was mine, really mine. I had my own place now. When I finished my new house admire, I stood up and grabbed a random box, the one that still stood. In one of those boxes had to sit my old diary. I opened the box and immediately saw that this was wrong, my diary was between books, not between kinds of vases, which I had received from my mother. After a while I finally found the coveted red book and hit the open. I flipped to the piece yesterday and started to read.   August 28, 2012 Tomorrow is the day. My apartment in London is ready, now I remember. Yeah, I'm done packing and stuff, but I'm scared. I do not mind being alone, but it's 24/7. I'm really afraid that I do every day at least three times with mom call, just to ask which mode my new (okay, but for me though) washer should, how long should my vegetable cooking or when the plants need water. Mommy's going to help me move tomorrow. Lottie wanted to help, but they must match the twins. Louis wanted to help, but Liam's birthday tomorrow and that he wanted to go. I told him that he had. He'll later see. Bang for school .. I do not know if I can call it. I think it's pretty scary, I do not really change, but I feel I'm ready. The rest will come, right?   I grabbed a pen from my bag that I took out my purse and sat on the couch. I pulled my knees and put my diary against it. I sucked on the tip of my pen - not the end of the filling, I did not have ink in my mouth, thank you - and thought about what I would write. After a while I put pen to paper and began to write, line by line. I wrote every feeling, every emotion, but also every major event in my diary. All that was important enough to remember.

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