Her Story

A short short story that I made over the summer

She looked up at the house, standing two storeys high, for the last time. She didn't dare call it 'home', it hadn't been 'home' for a number of years now. Wasn't a home where you could feel safe? Where you could run to to get away from all the sadness and anger of the world? If so, there was no way she could call this place home.

Years later she would remember this place as it was at this moment, in the dark of a new moon at exactly 11:59, a minute before midnight. She would remember the chill of the fall breeze as it ruffled her hair and penetrated her light sweater. She would remember how she hoisted her pack, containing her life, onto her shoulder, and how too-light it was, to contain all her memories, all her pains and tears, and the few joyful moments.

Most of all, she would remember the feeling of intense relief as she turned her back to the house and walked down the driveway into the night. She didn't know where she was going, or what would be coming at her in the years to come, but she would take it in stride. He couldnt hurt her now, that was all that mattered then.

She never looked back.

Author's Note

I don't know how much my writing has changed from this story to my others.