Leaving the House

February 7, 2008
It was nine fifteen pm
I was about to walk out my window
I held my bag close to my heart
I took one last look around the room
The walls were bare
The floor left with hot chocolate stains
From four years ago
The bed stripped, white, and obvious
I sighed
I would miss this, in a way
Not that I had many happy memories
But this room, my old room
Was my safe haven
A place I could trust
No one to intrude upon
Where I hid and cried my nights away
I stepped onto the balcony
I climbed down the wall
A million memories
Rushed through my head
And I felt the urge to cry
I landed on the ground
And I ran
For what I hoped would be the last time
From that house.

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imaginary said...
Sept. 19, 2008 at 5:17 pm
Nice work. I really enjoyed reading it. :)
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