the return

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The sludge beneath my feet told me that I was home. The air still smelt the same as the day I left. My untouched boots now coated in mud. The same mud that I used to get covered in as a kid. Everyday after school my mother would tell me off for ruining my freshly cleaned clothes.

My hat covered most of my face, shielding me from the eyes of Small Heath. I didn't want word to get around that I was back before I could go and explain myself to the people that mattered.

I walk down the familiar streets of my past as my anxiety increases. How will she react? What will she say? Will she say anything at all?

How could she forgive me? She attended my funeral, I saw her mourn my death right in front of me.
As I near her door I try to push my fears to the side and just hope she is so over joyed at the fact I'm actually alive that she just forgets everything else.

I knock on the door and wait, it felt like eternity before the door clicked open. I hear a soft gasp as she sees who is at the door.
"Hi Pol"

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