One week away. Her eyes stared at that paint chipped door and she forced herself to place the key in the lock and turn the handle. The house smelled like shit, to an uncomfortably literal level. That week away made it feel as if her whole world had changed, but it hadn't and she was home now.
Nothing had changed and everything looked the same.
The young girl couldn't have been more than 17 years old. She darted straight into the first room she came to on her left and slammed the white plastic sliding door behind her. She threw her bag through the archway of her closet and flopped down on her bed. She laid there for a moment before the smell of mold and decay from outside her room began to creep in. She quickly sat up and reached for the drawer on her bedside table. She grabbed three long sticks out of a box which simply read "Rose". The girl didn't expect the sticks to smell like rose, and truth be told the scent that they gave off when she lit them smelled nothing like the flower, but she didn't care. It was better than the smells that came from the rest of the house.
Once all three sticks were lit she took the one whole step to her computer chair and sat down, staring at the bag in her closet.
"I think I'll leave it till tomorrow to unpack" after all what was the hurry? If she didn't unpack then she didn't have to think about how she was back or maybe she was trying to forget that she ever really left in the first place.
The three sticks didn't take long to fill the 7 foot by 13 foot space, and she had known that long before she'd even grabbed the sticks. Her goal was to annoy her mother and her mothers boyfriend.
She stared at the flip flops that were still on her feet. Tiny bits of sand were still caught in the tears of the cheap fabric soles. The only reminder she had... the only instant reminder she had of being thousands of miles from this house. This land that was technically hers. It was technically hers but for some reason she let them rule.
Maybe because she didn't want to fight.
Maybe because she didn't know how to tell her mother that she was so greatly unhappy.
Maybe because she knew her mother truly didn't care.
With a spin of her chair she found herself infront of her computer which she quickly fired up. Her mouse quickly found apartment listings. She didn't want to leave her mother but she couldn't live in the same house with him.
With her eyes clenched tight she tried to remember that she was happy in her mothers house. Yet there was a nagging voice inside her head that kept telling her that she could get on a plane and fly away, but she wouldn't. Her mother had engrained a fear of change deep within her daughter, had it been on purpose? Or just worked out that way? Neither mother nor daughter could give you a fair answer to that question. Neither of them really knew.
So the daughter was left miserable and alone, with only one thought to comfort her... Tomorrow it was back to work.
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