There are two important days in this month of February. The first round of the competition, then her death anniversary. I circle the first day of the month on the calendar hanging from the wall. My eyes land on her death date and a tiny pang of pain hits me. I underline the date. It doesn’t get better, losing someone never gets better. You will always miss them. I miss my mum everyday.
A knock sounds from outside my door. I wipe the tear leaking down the corners of my eyes. “Who’s there?”
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