The tapping of my pencil eraser against the desk echoed throughout the room. With every tap, you could hear my frustration. My heart lunged, hearing a knock at my door. My eyes darted from my partially done homework back to the door. Sighing in relief, hearing it was Chiyo instead of our mom I nervously laughed. Scooting my chair back, I unlocked the door. When I opened it, she basically forced herself inside. I don’t understand why I have to share a room with an eight year old.
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