Once upon a time, there was a girl who lived in

a house filled with empty rooms.
She goes throughout her life, filling it with meaningless
activities, creating drama, doing anything to
distract herself from the empty rooms.
Life passes her by. Minute by minute, hour by hour, dad
by day, week by week, month by month.
She remembers she once had a purpose, a meaning to
each day,
But now she can never remember it, for it slowly faded
away.
Until one day, she realizes her purpose may lie in the
rooms.
So she gathers a deep breath and her courage and
swings open each door.
She takes in the empty closet, the empty walls, the
empty shelves, the empty desk.
The empty bed.

She slowly realizes that that’s all she’s wanted, for the
rooms to be full again.
All she needed was for the house to be filled with noise,
laughter, and joy.
Not empty rooms.

But slowly, she realizes that that will never happen, the
rooms will remain forever empty.
That someday, she, too, will leave her room an empty,
barren, pathetic whine of what used to be.
But would anyone notice?

So she sat in the empty rooms; remembering each
memory, each fear, each joke, each smile, each
hug.
She whispers two, soft, tear-soaked words.

She realized she was glad and lucky to have so much to
remember.
So she stands up and carries herself out of the empty
rooms.
She stays away from them,

But she remembers.
And she knows that on the day she leaves her room
empty and cold,
Her tears

And soft THANK YOU
Will forever linger in the house filled with empty rooms.