Cold Shoulder

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When I get home,

it's late.

And the house is

freaking

freezing.

It feels like

I live

in an igloo.

I grab a blanket from the closet

and wrap it around my shoulders.

I head to the kitchen.

Every

single

cupboard

door

is open.

"Jackson," I whisper.

"I'm home."


The CD player turns on.

My stomach does

a somersault.

I listen,

trying to

place it.

Got it.

Don't Leave Me

by Green Day.

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