One month. Four weeks. Thirty days. A total of seven hundred and twenty hours . . .
Without Leroy.
I clutch the moving box close to my chest, unable to take the first step inside. Dad purchased a brand new house, a small yet spacious two bedroom. Our previous one completely burned down to the ground but even if it didn't, I don't think I'd be able to step foot inside it again. Knowing the walls held the death of Leroy would haunt me forever.
I barely have any belongings. The box I'm holding contains a few items of clothing, a toothbrush, Alfie The Bear, a picture of Leroy and I and beauty bits. All of my previous possessions were destroyed in the fire.
I glance up at the building, tears welling up in my eyes. The front door is wide open, inviting me in but I just can't do it. I can't put one foot ahead of the other and walk inside. Leroy should be right beside me, giddy with excitement.