eight

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          I guess I should've seen this coming.

       If it were up to me, the whole "Mandy" matter would be done by now. Slap on some lipstick, throw on a black suit, and then bam, you've got yourself a funeral.

       To be fair, I was warned, several times, about this. My mom has this crazy notion I'll relapse if I'm not prepared.

          Maybe she's right.

          When they first told me, I was all, "Oh, sure, yeah, that's great." Mandy’s foster parents didn't have enough money to hold the darn thing, so it was up to my mom to organize a funeral for a girl she never really knew.

          It's fucking messed up.

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