pretty girl

lonely house

The sky seemed melancholy as I walked down the street, the once blue sky looked a collection of gray cotton balls of all different hues.

Overcast.

I'm walking home.

home isn't really the best place for me, it's lonely and cold and reminds you of dark times.

it has steep steep stairs with bones that crack when even the lightest of people walk on them and narrow doors that sing an eire song when they move with old metal knobs that jostle and don't lock properly.

My room is the attic.

There's not much room for me to stand up straight and the walls are painted a sandstone orange.

My dresser is a vibrant cyan with a small mirror on top of it, and flowers that were picked years ago still sit in a vase beige and dried

I'm lucky to have a full sized bed, i get much more room than i do where usually sleep.

i guess you could consider the theme of my room birds, as my sheets have silhouettes of chickadees on them and metal cutouts of cardinals are on my wall.

There's a clock on my bedside table that drives me insane sometimes.

a constant

tic tok tic tok tic tok

then sometimes it's a little different.

once in a while you'll catch it losing its rhythm.

it may be be a tic tic tok tic instead of the usual.

there's a white rug on my ground that always slides around, and i think you could consider it more of a thick uncomfortable blanket than you could a rug.

It's made of many knots and has tassels at the edges.

My room isn't really that interesting, the only entertainment being a few books on a shelf

But i've read them all, at least twice.

Every time I come here, I think of the first time I met Kiera 2 years ago.

The memory always plays in my mind like a broken VHS that skips and bugs, but all the important parts are fine.

i hadn't been home for a very long time, back when i would pack a bag and spend a month or so at saffies.

I entered my house, the lights were off and everything seemed fine.

I made my way to the creaky stairs, that lead up to martins room and mine as well.

Then between steps, I heard panicked footsteps.

My heart became heavy and my head got dizzy, I thought Martin had died and was upstairs.

I sprinted up the stairs to see who it was, but who I saw was most certainly not martin.

That's the first time I saw her, Her terrified eyes cut through you and her face was flushed of blood and impossibly white, She stood frozen there in front of my bed.

"who are you?" I asked with absolute fear.

"I'msososorryyou'llneverseemeagaini'llgorightnowjustdon'thurtme" She spoke quicker than the 'side effects may include' people at the ends of medicinal commercials.

She tried sprinting past me and down the stairs

but i stopped her.

" listen i'm not mad i'm just terrified  and want to know who you you are"  I said, trying to sound confident.