I can't believe it. I truly can't believe it.
Standing before me is my childhood friend of 8 years.
Who is it, you ask?
Well, there's only one of these girls.
It's my Tracy Beaker!
We just look at each other, trying to work out what to say, what to do.
But it's been so long; I can't believe how she's changed! Where have the wild curls gone, the braces, the pranking devices to be used on Elaine The Pain? She's almost as beautiful as she was a child.
Of course I never considered of her beauty as a child - we were just best friends. I always had a bit of a crush on Justine Littlewood - another notorious name in the carehome we used to call The Dumping Ground. I never felt any affection other than friendship love towards the girl in front of me.
Come to think of it, where the hell am I? Liam and Frank, the teenage boys that took me here, mentioned it being a place where children were 'dumped'. And why would Tracy be here -
I've suddenly realised.
"T...Trace?"
"Crash." She puts her hand to her heart, exhales, and runs towards me in a hug.
I hug her so hard, it makes up for the long space of time we haven't seen each other in.
"Tracy?" I say in a muffled tone, as I hold her close to me. I spot Frank looking really confused in the corner, but I persue my conversation.
"Are we ... could we possibly be ... in the Dumping Ground?"
Awwwwwwh Sweet (:
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