As I approach it looms over me. Nails protruding from every which way, wooden boards are splintered and cracked. The dark doorway, is a sight to be seen with hands reaching out to me.
Windows have been locked and barred.
The scent of smoke and alcohol is overwhelming, I'll get drunk from just breathing in.
Cicadas are loud this time round. Their buzz fills my brain, taking over my mind. The world spins as I inch closer. I want to run but it's dragging me in.
I can feel the gaze through the curtains. Eyes boring through my soul, chaining me here. My sight goes wavey with the blaring sun.
An uncared for lawn, the grass tickles my legs. Wind twists and slithers up my neck.
This. Is. Hell. My most dreaded place but I always return. If I don't what will happen to her? The dark doorway gets nearer and nearer.
Floorboards on the porch creak and bend. My throat closing over as the smell gets stronger. I can already taste what'll be happening tonight. The acidity burns at the back of my throat.
Cold, frigid hands clasp me at each side as I step in. I don't understand how someone can refer to this place as 'home'.
