The room was silent. The next morning, when I woke up, my friend was already awake and staring at me. Based on a True Story. My parents never met her father, and we only talked to her a few times, as the rent transaction was done mostly through a realtor. One of my friends was sleeping over and we were, of course, staying at the house. Virginia lived there for almost 20 years with her elderly father, a registered sex offender who was diagnosed with dementia at the age of Fast forward a few weeks.
My parents slept downstairs in a room that was a new addition to the house, and I hated the idea that they were so far away.
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Immediately after closing my eyes, I felt the weirdest sensation. Take A Random Pasta. That night, after saying goodnight to my parents, I lay down on the pull-out sofa, contented. I told my parents about about this after my friend left and they disregarded it, thinking I was letting my imagination get the better of me. I opened my eyes, fearing the worst, but no one was there. Despite her protests that we should sleep upstairs, I insisted we stay downstairs.