chapter 15

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The thought of bringing Scarlet back was all that mattered to me but deep inside I felt it was wrong and selfish. I mean you might be thinking haven't you seen any modern movies? Or are you stupid but to me none of those thoughts occurred. After getting my head back in the real world and deciding to walk back to Jason's place I collapsed on the couch with TV remote in hand.

You might be asking why I'm still staying with the Bryant's well mom and I have both been deeply hurt by Scarlets death and mom and I both thought it would be better if I stayed with the Bryant's, I have been doing school but from home.

Scrolling through the TV channels I found the show that Scarlet and I always used to watch, I tried to say the name but even the memory of it brought hot salty tears to my eyes.

"oh Scarlet."

Sitting down at the table and opening my math book I began to think...well needed to think. Math math math ...

Frustration kicked in as my brain refused to engage. Life was just to confusing to be wasted on school and especially Math. I hate it all the concentration drove me mad, atleast sometimes it did anyway.

An hour of wasted time passed by and math was over, finally over.

I had to admit it felt strange having an almost normal day. Going back to the TV I scrolled and scrolled not wanting to look for ages the next channel was Bondi Rescue. Why not it's not the worst thing on.

Feeling hungry I got up to look in the fridge mac and cheese would do. I checked the time it was 16:03.

Perfect the Bryant's don't get back for another hour. 1 more peaceful hour to myself.

I tend to take to myself only leaving my room when asked or when no one was around I never hung out with friends. I tried going back to school but all I heard was did you hear about Scarlet or can you imagine how hard this is for their family. It got tiring after a while so I took to home schooling as long as I did all my work and got most of it right I was good but if I dropped then I'd go back to school. No way I was ever going back there.   

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