Rain slaps against the windows, pounding. Thunder strikes, and I cower. Stomach churning, my heart palpitating. They're leaving today.

 

After months of packing and boxing up their belongings, they are leaving. Clawing at the varnished pine floors, scratching the mauve walls, tearing at me, a cavernous hole consumes me.

 

Insatiable.

 

A creature capturing its prey. Trapped, I edge closer to the abyss. I don't know what I'll find.

 

So I do nothing.

 

I watch them walk away, waiting for them to change their minds, to run back to me. To ignite the embers of my fireplace, and inhabit me.

 

Restless, a maelstrom of leaves spin faster, distracting me. The gale cackles, taunting me. Taillights obscured by the fury of the rain, the glow fragmenting until I can trace it no further. All I see is black, searing my eyes. Glad of the clouds drooping above me, I embrace them. Thunder beats in my heart; tears weep down my windows, mourning me.

 

Witnessing them drive away leaves me blinded. Hollow, like the sea without fish, like a bicycle without wheels, like an empty promise, the thought drowns me. I try to fight it, to escape the wave crashing over me. Growing, it's a poison spreading through my veins. My heart fractures, splitting asunder into infinitesimal pieces; porcelain shards puncturing me. Light flares through the french windows, radiating the living room, displaying their desertion. But it dissipates as quickly as it came, rendering the room dark once more. Solid shadows drift, haunting my rooms, an echo of their lives in mine.

 

The silence is an earthquake, sending shudders down to the ground. Never have I experienced such quiet, suffocating me as I try to fathom their absence. No sudden squalls of laughter and excitement, no more dancing in the halls, no breakfasts and lunches and dinners at the dining table, no more pandemonium and commotion. All I'm left with is the taste of blood on my tongue. They were the soul of my body, and now they are gone.

 

What am I without them? I am a shell without a snail. Who will care for me, the way I cared for them? Am I worth nothing?

 

They lived within me for years. I watched them grow with each infinite moment. I loved them. I lit up at their presence; each room they walked into surged with an illumination no bulb could match. How could they abandon me, after all I did for them? I sheltered them from the harshest of storms, provided a home for their family, gave them everything they wanted. I gave them a home, and all I get in return is a lifetime of aching memories. They encapsulated my world, but I was nothing to them. I thought we were inextricably linked, but they severed that in a moment. I was nothing but a house to be lived in.

 

Discarded.

 

Temporary.

 

Forgotten.

 

My walls lose their lustre, dimmed by the void left where my heart once was. The ceiling sags, giving up hope of their return. The chasm threatens to upheave my foundation, a beast pounding on the floors beneath me, trying to break free. 

 

Tiles shatter. Brocade walls peel, exposing the skeleton beneath. Rain pours through the ceiling, collecting in a stagnant pool. The windows are opaque now, gilded with a thick layer of dust. The polished floors unswept, pockmarked with claw marks of the critters that scurry along it. The forsaken furniture rots in silence, upholstery stained and fraying. The ghosts of my memory wander the halls, carrying an Arctic chill. I wither away: a tree in winter. But I will not bloom in spring, as I haven't since they left. Fossilising, my decrepit bones decay. Buried in darkness, it is almost palpable: an entity in itself. It drags me through my nightmares, choking me. The only relief I get is the murky sunlight, tarnished by the grimy windows.

 

But it's not enough.

 

I can't escape this darkness, cocooning me, getting tighter and tighter, until I can't breathe. I can't do this; I am on the verge of death, waiting for something to engulf me, devour me so I can fall through nothingness. So I can escape the hell I've become.

 

I submit to the night. It swallows me up greedily, pulling me into the void. Submerging me, I'm thrown into a new world. Closing my fatigued eyes, I surrender to it all.

 

Creaking, the movement jolts me; my eyes snap open. Rusty with disuse, the front door rasps. I feel the handle being pushed, and I push back, but my hands are weak. Light gleams, scorching me. Savouring each beam, I soak in the pain. Squinting, I make out an imperceptible silhouette...

 

She is older now. How long have I slept while the world kept spinning? Why has she come back? Why now? Why?

 

She runs a finger along the window. Shivering, I watch as she observes me. What does she see? What does she think? Does she miss me?

 

Does she remember?

 

Why couldn't she leave me alone?

 

The memories of her running around me, hiding behind my walls and giggling as she was found reignite a dormant pulse in meI gave them a home, and all I get in return is a lifetime of aching memories., but I don't think I could survive another ruin.