The day Lucy Winters died came as a shock to everyone who knew her. I assumed a lot of friends and family came for her funeral that gloomy, rainy day. For both the wake and funeral, I remained cooped up in my room. I just couldn't bring myself to go. The last time we saw each other, I told her I was sorry, and that I couldn't be with her. I wish I hadn't said that, and then maybe she would still be alive. And right now, I'd give anything to get that feeling once more. That art of feeling. Is your heart still as cold as before or has it warmed up? That was the last message she sent to me. Hurt and angry as I was, I still texted back. With you, everything is warm. And I wonder if she ever saw that message. This is the story of me and Lucy Winters and how it ended.
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