Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
HOME SWEET HOME
-
WHEN MIEKO ENTERED THE OLD
room, everything was the same as she had left it when she was only sixteen years of age. Every surface and object had a thick layer of dust collected over the years, as the room hadn't been touched in forever except for a few new photos in picture frames that Mieko didn't want to know or ask how her mother had gotten. Nothing was out of place, even to a glass of water, that the liquid had now evaporated, she had laid on her nightstand the night before she left.
Mieko walked around the room slowly, observing all the small things, intricate items she had to decorate her room when she was teenager, and simply sniffled back a few tears at the awful memories she longed to forget that came along with them. She had picked up one of the new photos her mother had placed in the room and took a seat on her bed, slowly lowering herself down to indulge in the comfort she had forgotten she once had thanks to the memory foam mattress. She held the photo up, blocking the light that was directly in her eyes; only to stare at the photo for a long time that seemed like only a few mere seconds for herself.
She creased every line of the photo's details with her fingertips gently, as she closed her eyes reliving the memory in her mind. Of course a small smile overcame her tired frown, but slowly was replaced with a deeper frown as she vocalized loud sobs, crying her heart out. She brought the frame closer to her heart, and held the picture tightly as if she never wanted to let go, and from there she curled into a ball where she continued to wail like a baby.
She couldn't recall the last she cried over this particular reason; she held it in for so long to cover the truth to hide the fact from her coworkers at the agency, that it had sunk to the back of her mind. And often when she came home from work, she'd be too exhausted to notice the emptiness of her small, sad, single-lady apartment. But here; in this room, laying on a mattress that was probably worth more than her apartment (not that she wasn't making good money; she was because of her sorcerer status, the woman just chose not to upgrade any of her cheap materialistic things and kept the money piling up in the bank for no reason, as she tried to lie to herself even about that) she let out all the cries and whimpers she had cornering the situation; not caring who saw.
Everyone in this house knew about it. They knew about her failure. There was no reason to hide it. Despite even having left the room door open, she couldn't be bothered to worry about such a silly thing, as she hugged the picture for dear life she had thought to herself that she would've been content if she had taken her last breath in this very bed as long as she held onto the photo.
After that she didn't remember anything else that had happened, she woke up in a frazzled state after being gently shook awake. She glanced around the room, her eyes squinted together with sleep and exhaustion, wondering where she was to for split second. She continued looking around when she seen Anna sitting beside her, the picture frame in her hands, with a worried face.
