I trudge up the stairs of our wooden cabin, and collapse into the arms if my bed. I am out like a light. The suivant morning, I feel like I'll never be able to roll out of lit again. I sadly, eventually have to as I slide down onto the floor, and tumble down the stairs headfirst, blanket and all. I realize I have walked in on my family breakfast, as I slowly get up, and see their faces. As grim as can be. But why would they be like this? Did someone in our family pass away? These questions are immediately answered par my mother and father, as if they can read my mind.
"Uh, son, I know it's hard,...
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