what's the point of leaving? (him)

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This is my last night in this house.

I've done my packing two nights ago and all I need to do is to move. Away from this house, this town, the people who call themselves my friends, and everyone who use to know me.

The stars sparkled the same way as last night.

I wonder if I'll still have the same view of the night sky from my dorm. This could be the closest thing from peace I could ever have.

Suddenly I remember the girl who gave me her diary when we're on the eighth grade. I remember packing it on my luggage but I can't get myself to read it again the night that I found it at the bottom of my shoe rack.

I wonder of she still look at the stars like we used to that night?

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