Tears
burned in the back of my throat just like the fire had burned the apartment
downstairs from us only a few weeks ago. Almost three to be exact. There was
nothing left.
Black soot covered many of the outlets and the stairwell. There
was nothing left.
It was the first time I had seen it like this, desolate and
destroyed. There was nothing left.
I remember walking into what used to he my
room for the first time. Now there was nothing left.
It looked worse than when I
had moved my belongings in. Now the floor was covered in dust and insulation and
my belongings were being chemically cleaned in ways I honestly don't care to
know right now.
There's nothing left in that apartment, nothing but an
independent life that had been postponed, an independent life I know I've earned
myself.
Of course I'm upset about this no doubt, but there's gotta be something
good left from this situation.
There has to be something left....