20│Dear Mara

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Chapter Twenty
DEAR MARA
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Walking up the front steps of her childhood home, Rosalie felt nervous. Her hands started sweating, and she had to take in deep breaths in an effort to calm herself down. She knew that she needed to do this. This was her last chance to make things right.

Julie followed behind the ghost, looking just as nervous. Rosalie turned back to her friend as she reached the top of the porch. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out the worn-out paper that had been folded up too many times. Giving the paper to Julie, her eyes began to feel with tears.

"Maybe we shouldn't do this," Rosalie whispered, pulling the paper that contained the lyrics back to her chest. "I don't think I can do this."

Julie looked at her with a sad smile, "You don't have to." She told her softly, taking a step closer. "But it might help you, and your mother like it helped Luke and his mom." Julie tried to help her. She would give anything just to be able to speak with her own mother again, and so maybe helping out the ghosts with their problems helped her a little as well.

Rosalie closed her eyes and let out a shaky breath before opening them, "No, I have to do this." She said with a sad look, causing Julie to look at her weirdly as if she knew something the girl didn't. Rosalie held the paper back out for Julie to take, which she did.

Rosalie fiddled with her bracelet around her wrist as Julie rang the doorbell. She had wondered for the longest time what she would say to her mother if she got the chance again. She would make up scenarios in her head of how conversations would go. But now, standing at the doorstep of her home, she feared that she didn't write down the right words. She wanted to take the pages out of Julie's hand and rewrite them before her mother answered the door.

The longer she waited for the door to open, the more anxious she got. Her mind was automatically thinking about the worst-case scenario. She thought maybe her mother had completely moved on with her life and forgot about her, or perhaps she never recovered from hearing the news that she had been killed. She didn't know which one she wanted.

Switching her weight from foot to foot, Rosalie twisted her bracelet around her wrist in a way to distract her from the overwhelming amount of nerves she was feeling. It was worse now then it had been when she first started playing in the band with the guys.

Hearing the door unlock, Rosalie snapped her head up and watched with big eyes as the woman who she knew as her mother opened up the door. She had brown hair that was beginning to grey, and she wore a dark pink flannel shirt and light blue jeans with white running shoes. Her hair was draped down her shoulders, stopping just past them. Her eyes still held sadness in them from just recovering from finding her daughter a few short weeks ago.

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