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One.

"I'm so sorry."

That's all everyone seemed to say.

I sat in my seat, watching everyone pay their respects to my great grandmother. I didn't know her that well, but my mother described her as one of the kindest people you'll ever meet. I'll never know.

Tugging at my short black dress, all I could think about was when this would be over. I hated funerals, and I've seen enough tears for one day. I just wanted to go home.

I couldn't have sprinted out of the funeral home fast enough. Sure I felt bad about it, but I needed sleep. The bags under my eyes were still visible, even with my layers upon layers of concealer I slapped on.

Summer was almost over, and I needed to cherish every moment. During the school year, I was determined to get all A's, and do as many sports and clubs as possible. I had to get into a good college, especially considering the amount of competitiveness these days. This year I'd be sending out applications, and I had to look my best. It's what everyone expects, anyways.

My parents are huge on grades. They're always hounding me about that one bad grade I got freshman year. Since then, they monitor my grades like watchmen. Lately, they've been more lenient, but they still watch over me. I love them, but it can get a bit annoying.

Flopping onto my bed, I was finally able to get comfortable. I flipped through channels, and decided on HGTV, because Food Network would make me too hungry.

Fixer Upper came on, and they were walking around an old house. It almost reminded me of my great grandmother's house. I've only been in it once, and it was a year or so ago, but I still remember it. Her husband had died a few years before, and there were pictures of the two of them framed all throughout her house. It I almost acted as a shrine to him.

I remember her once telling me, "Find you a man that will protect you. One that will always stay by your side, through thick and thin. Once you find him, never let him go."

I dozed off to bed with those words ringing through my mind.

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