Chapter 8- That lost day

My grandma died when I was 11 years old. My mom cried a lot, when she heard and a lot more at the funeral. I never shed a tear when I heard, or at the funeral. Don’t get me wrong I was sad but I just never cried. The Monday after the funeral, I went to school and around lunch I told my teacher and that’s when the waterworks began.

Maybe the song Attention by Charlie Puth was meant for me or I was just a really weird kid. But then again, I had never met my grandma so it might have been that.

The difference between now and then was that I had met him and he was a guy that was still discovering himself. The similarity, I hadn’t cried once. In fact I was so calm, I was currently straightening my hair something I only did on special occasions.

What was wrong with me? Ask me again in a few days when I’m around people who don’t know me.

I paused and stared at my reflection. There was something different about me that I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

The girl in the mirror was me but not