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Death of a Family

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The hallway held an eerie presence. The dull gleam of the florescent lighting scared the girl. She sat, her back to the wall, knees to her chest, sobbing. Her head lay on her upraised knees.
The green of the walls had long faded the gleam and glow of the hardwood floors all dull and broken, the furniture dust covered and ancient. Broken photo frames littered the floor.
“They lied to me,” thought the girl.
Doors around the hall swung lazily from the open air flowing through the windows. Tattered papers fluttered to the floor. The stairs creaked deceptively, for the girl knew no one would come. A foggy hopeless air filled the hall choking the girl’s tears. She shuttered and slumped to the floor. Her arms hugged across her chest trying to hold the pieces f her heart together, but it was no use.
“Why?” she called to the empty hall. The whistling wind being her only company.
“Why” she screamed, heart clenching, gasping for life, “You promised!”
The sun had not shown that day. The birds did not chirp. The clocks would not tick. The world had stopped life on standstill.
A locket lay down the hall torn from the neck of the girl, it too did not move.
The tears did not stop, the pain never ending. We all hold onto things that are lost. The girl un-crumples a family photo she clenched into her fist.
A tear escaped onto the crumbled remains, “Why’d you leave me?”




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