I was back at Phoenix, in Phil’s house. I sat in my room, the sun streamed through the window as I lay on my stomach Membaca Romeo and Juliet for the hundredth time. I was Membaca happily, although my brain didn’t seem to be processing any of the words atau story. I suddenly tensed; the sound of shouting came from under my floor boards. I flung my book onto my katil and jumped up to my door. Tugging it open I fled out of my room and ran. I ran down the stairs as fast as I could, but they twisted and turned. It seemed to take forever until I was downstairs. But once I reached the bottom, there...
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