The Music Room

Home

The quaint little mountain cottage with five bedrooms and three bathrooms is still standing sturdy and brave. I turn the key and sit with anticipation and fear. Unsure if I am able to face these memories of Donovan. Taking a deep breath as the sun is slowly setting beyond the western trees which gives everything a golden hint. I slowly walk up the stone path that Tyler and Alex helped me put in. Searching beneath the mat for the key I stand before the door, breathing heavily and my hand grips the key with a slippery tightness. Fumbling with it I shakily put it into the lock and take a deep breath. Slowly turning it and hearing it click I push open the door.
The house smells empty and vacant; just as I knew it would. Yet I can't help the twinge of hurt from my heart.
The open style kitchen flows into the rest of the house. The walls are covered by art and mosaics worthy of DaVinci and Picasso. The entire house flows like a river of imagination and vibrant creativity. Coming to the master bedroom I hold my breath as I open the door slowly. The big room is just as empty as the rest of the house except this room gags me by the overpowering scent of Donovan. I spot his abandoned hoodie on the bedpost; the red and black one that I stole from him and wore without him noticing. This hoodie is from before the invasion. This hoodie is from before hell froze over. This hoodie is a symbol of the past and a reminder of when things were easy and life was simple. Just two kids madly in love, but now the owner is dead and gone. There is nothing I can do about that. There is no bringing them back. With tears in my exhausted eyes I kick off my shoes and slip into the hoodie. I fall asleep breathing in his memorable scent of gasoline and clean air.