𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐕𝐎𝐑 𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒.
Somewhere far, far away from home. Not what it was. Not a normal afternoon with nothing to do.
And still we fight.
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HER ROOM HASN'T changed.
Ellie-Marie never expects it to. She did when she first moved out, when she grabbed whatever she could fit in one sole luggage and stormed out the same abrupt way her mother was notorious for around several stations across the country. She expected it to be converted the next time she came over, at least readjusted to where nothing would be a reminder of what once was. It isn't that Mom doesn't love her enough to keep her things around, it's that Mom loves her too much to keep reminders of what her ambition cost.
At least, that's what she gathered from the divorce.
Mom isn't the cold-hearted bitch everyone presumes her to be. Ellie knows this better than most, only beat out by her father at that, yet she still couldn't believe the first time she came over after leaving in the midst of their worst fight to date. Her room was the same. The stuffed animals in their assigned places, the half-messy sheets, the family photos that still draw tears to Ellie's eyes when she thinks too long about the time before everything went through a nightmare spiral. The pastel pink walls, the section of her closet dedicated specifically to handmade clothes, the cat headphones she forgot to grab still lying on the bedside table. Nothing changed. Mom preserved her existence like it was something she wanted to keep around, like it was worth just as much as Dad's chair or her original typewriter. It became an unspoken thing between them, this understanding that Ellie could come and go as she pleased, take along anything she wanted and bring whatever she desired right back. It would always be waiting for her.
