Sadness

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I picked up the note and held it, feeling probably the last thing Sam ever touched. A wave of absolute uncontrollable sadness came rushing over me and I just sat in the corner of the treehouse and cried my eyes out.
It was probably about an hour before I stopped crying and tried to pull myself together. I let down the rope ladder so that when I climb down, I can do it easily. Then I picked up my septiceye from where I set it down earlier, and placed Sam's picture collage upright by the wall. Then I climbed down. It seemed like there was nothing I could do now. I can't go home, I can't stay with Sam, I don't have any other friends from school because they all reject me, there is nowhere for me to go.
Despite the cold, I laid down in the corner of the treehouse and drifted of into a dreamless sleep.
When I awoke, my stomach growled, so I went down the ladder with my septiceye and Sam's note and started toward my empty house. On the way, I saw some people in black suits taking my parents from my home in big person-sized boxes. They were placed into a big car and the people in suits drove away. I walked into my house to find some food and warm up a little. I was the only one there, so it was incredibly lonely.
After eating some cereal, I heard a knock on the door. I cracked open the door and saw another man in a suit. He asked if I had any siblings or relatives home, so I shook my head. He must have been a person running an orphanage or something, because he asked me to grab my things and come with him. I did as I was told, putting all my things in my big backpack and a medium sized wooden trunk. Afterward, the man helped me put my stuff in a car and drove me to the local orphanage. I was scared and shy while walking into the building until a nice looking lady came up to me. She took my hand and lead me to an office looking room to talk to me about my parents. I learned two very important things then and there: 1. they are not going to be coming back any time soon 2. I will be stuck here for a very long time.

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