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Cinnamon Rolls

By Cecelia B.


I woke up to the sweet smell of cinnamon rolls downstairs. We usually only eat them on special occasions, so I could tell today would be a good day. I was so tired I could barely move, but the wonderful smell made me kick off my blankets, lift myself up and slowly walk down the stairs, trying not to wake up my brother, who I thought was still sleeping. When my feet hit the last step, I realized that I was wrong. Everyone was downstairs. They were crying. I looked out of the big window in the living room. It was pouring rain outside as if the earth was crying too. I didn’t know why they were all so sad. Just seeing them made me want to cry too, and the cinnamon rolls in the kitchen didn’t help at all. They told me to sit down on the couch. My mom, in her softest voice, told me the news. The news that would change my life forever.

Later that day, I went on a walk in the pouring rain.

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