The house wasn't the same to her anymore.

The house wasn't the same to her anymore. Don't misunderstand. It was the same structurally, of course. The same wallpaper that wilted in corners and drooped in others. The same carpet with designs reminiscent of a muddied puddles. The same scent even; a sort of lilac and honey blend which lingered a bit in the air and played with your nose as you moved from room to room. It was the same house but it meant much more to her now. Now it was her house. Passed down in the will and 100%, totally hers.

She hadn't been back since she left for college. She swore she wouldn't. Too many bad memories. Memories of heartbreak and neglect. Memories of fights and tantrums and anger and sadness. It had not been a home to her.

But, the will had granted her full ownership. And how could she say no? She came trepidatiously, wondering if the screams and yells would still be ringing off the walls, as if trapped in ember from too many nights of absorbing her howls.

She didn't expect to feel this....nothing. No emotion at all. Just a cold emptiness, a longing for some sort of retribution, and the bitter knowledge that none would come. Her childhood, this house and all the memories it held were just water under the bridge. Parade floats of vivid memories that had marched far beyond her eyeline in the unceasing, unfurling march of life.

Disclaimer: This post was written with “The world’s most dangerous writing app” - a website which is designed to set a certain amount of time for writing and delete all your work if you stop writing for 5 seconds before the timer is up. Grammatical errors, misuse of language, spelling errors and the overall general quality of the work should bear that in mind ;)