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Rounding the corner of the old gym I practically grew up in, my past comes rushing forwards in quick glimpses. I would imagine people who haven’t experienced close contact with death would think that it was their lives flashing before their eyes, but alas I’m not so lucky to have that ignorance.

I sigh and pull the long black pea coat closer to my body, as an extremely large snowflake soaks one particular spot on my head, bringing me out of my depressing thoughts. In all honesty I would like to say that I didn’t miss winter around here, but I did, I missed everything. The quiet stillness that is this small town of mine and the damp smell of the trees in winter, only make me long for my old life even more.

I continue my slow pace, making sure to pay extremely close attention to my surroundings. Everything is exactly the same, the old playground is still ragged and unkempt, Mr. Styles’ house’s paint is still peeling, and the trees still hang to make a dark winding path with their branches. It’s not the other things that I miss, I realize, it’s the fact that nothing ever changes. I miss the fact that you could just have an extremely boring day, it was always so predictable and I loathe my new life for not offering that same luxury.

I roam around some more and after stepping in numerous sloppy puddles of wet freezing mud, I finally see in the distance my old home. I welcome the sight of the untouched snow littering the yard and the almost too-perfect white fence around the property.

Hesitating, I have to force myself to walk forwards, the silence is deafening and is only broken by the crunching of the snow from my black boots. I make my way to the white front door of the house and pull out my old set of keys.

I have to take my gloves off to slip the key into the lock and pray that no one has changed it. The cold chill of the wind laps at my hands and turns them an interesting shade of light red. I turn the key and hear a click, I reach forwards with shaking hands and grasp the shockingly cold metal of the door knob. After giving it a quick turn I push the door open to reveal the short hallway leading into the rest of the house.

The musty smell and barren rooms break my heart as I continue through the foreign and yet familiar building. I turn and shuffle into the kitchen, more memories assault me and I feel my eyes tear up at the sight before me.

The desolate room is replaced with the old wooden table and chairs, the yellow fridge has replaced the open space in the corner and I see to my surprise that my mother still has pictures that I had drawn from the first grade stuck to the front and sides of it.

“Sweetheart, get some food in you. You look as skinny as a twig.” My mother scolds as she sets the table with my favorite breakfast, of scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, and orange juice.

I don’t say anything, but I do as I’m told and hesitantly step forwards. I know my confusion is showed clearly on my face, but I still pick up a chipped blue plate and pile a good amount of the contents on the table onto it. I pick up a bent fork and shovel some egg into my mouth. I groan at the taste of the salted piece of heaven and before I know it, tears are pouring down my face in pure happiness and maybe a little from sorrow too.

“Brynn, what’s wrong? Mother asks in her sweet honey-filled voice.

She continues to ask this, the image of the kitchen fades away, but the words remain, deeper now.

“Brynn, what’s wrong?” The familiar deep male voice questions once again.

I look into deep ocean blue eyes and sniffle, “I was just thinking about my mother.”

His face softens and he carefully states, “You know you aren’t supposed to be here, there are too many people who wish to hurt you.”

I start to sob, “I know Dorian, but I couldn’t help it.”

“I know how you feel, but it get’s easier, I promise, now it’s time to go.” He carefully takes my arm and leads me out of the house.

Once out we are swarmed by groups of men and women in uniforms, they know how much I hate the fact that they can follow me wherever I go. I have no freedom and now I have to go back, back to my lonely existence, but maybe it will change one day.



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