TPW// chapter eleven

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Currently, Emily and I were bundled up in blankets upon blankets, sitting on duvets that we'd laid on the floor and were watching Netflix. Because why not?

"He can't die!" Emily and I shouted at the screen, looking at each other before looking at the tv again in rage.

"How dare they," I uttered staring at the paused screen with Jeff (Atkin 13rw)'s bloodied face and smashed car. Both Emily and I would start a to watch a series, pick our favourite characters and watch the entire thing in one sitting. Nine times out of ten, our favourites would die; this being a great example.

Emily threw some popcorn at the tv in disgust.

"This better be a sick joke," Emily's sister, Anna, sneered but I glimpsed a small tear rolling down her cheek. I must admit, she wasn't the only one. I, myself, felt tears threatening to over spill.

We all swivel to face each other, lips trembling. With a synchronised, choked sob, we all broke into tears. The ugly kind where you can't stop and your face is a blotchy red. Anna scoots off of the couch and we all gravitate towards each other. Within a few seconds, we're all sobbing messes, cuddled together with our blankets.

Anna is a year older than us. She's in university, studying physics across the country, but every now and then she'll come home to spend a night watching Netflix with us. It's like our ritual.

Her hair is a little shorter than Em's but, overall, you can tell they're sisters. I mean, they have the same curly hair that cascades in ringlets and the same perfect complexion. Anna's a little taller than me or Em- their dad's genes probably. She also has these amazing eyes: large, almond shape in this light brown with dark eyelashes.

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All three of us are still struggling to come to terms with our recent loss. If anybody mentions him, we will most likely break down again, which isn't a pretty sight.

To overcome our heart break, we'd decided to order an extra large pizza because pizza is good for all occasions- don't fight me on this. It won't completely mend our hearts, but it will most definitely help.

The door bell rang with me lying on the floor, blankly staring up at the ceiling and Emily perched on her coffee table staring blankly at the wall. Anna seemed the only one sort of presentable (and the only one with money) so she went to answer the door.

Once paid, she ran over to us, jumping the couch with ease. Did I mention she was also extremely athletic?

Em and I immediately recovered from our dazes, staring hungrily as Anna opened the box, tantalisingly slowly. We both leant in to get a better look at the contents of the box and we were not disappointed.

"You took your time," I noticed when she had been a good 5 minutes at the door. A glimpse had told me that the delivery person was young (about Anna's age) and was smiling a hell of a lot when they were speaking.

"I'm good, but I'm not that good. But I did get her number," she held up the receipt where a phone number had been scrawled. Em and I both gave Anna a cheer.

You could smell the pizza from a few metres away and let me tell you, it smelt so good.

Taking a mouthwatering bite, I was sent into a world of pure bliss. I moaned in appreciation.

Anna and Em both seemed to be doing the same, taking slow bites to savour the taste.

We switched the TV back on, deciding to watch something different instead. Something without such a heartless story line.

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