I prepared myself to leave Manchester in a week, and had planned not to tell anyone about it except the day before leaving.
I told my manager at work that I was sick so I didn't go the whole week. My phone rang and billion times a day but of course my fingers were unable to answer.
the day before planning to tell everyone that I was leaving, my doorbell rang. I was the only one home so I had no choice of opening the door.
Every step I stepped towards the door felt as if there are pins under my feet. Every part of me told me not to open the door. It could be Zac, or my friends, or maybe even worse... Jason.
I slowly opened the door with my eyes staring at the floor....
I get excited... I want to write moreeee.
Comment what you think will happen next.