As I walked along the dark grey corridor, I was greeted by a red door. I held my mum’s hand. We were welcomed by a rather old woman who had pronounced wrinkles in her forehead and had a friendly, caring look about her. She wore a pale pink v-neck sweater and long black trousers. Her name was Miss Kelly. She reached for a large sheet, filled with the names of boys and girls. She scanned it and finally came across mine...
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