This is the house where she grew up. A place that she has known so well for so long, yet is now so different. Sounds and smells once omnipresent are no more. Even the light seems to have changed, from bright fiery crimson and almost ultraviolet purple, to only shades of gray, sickly green and pale blue. So much is missing. Only ethereal ghosts linger in this empty space. Only absence prevails.

There is no sound. All she can hear is the wind outside, her footsteps, her breath and the beating of her own heart as she gives the place a last scan. The sounds of constant fighting, the muffled screams through her bedroom door and her pillow are no more. They are now part of the phantoms lingering around, little more than remote memories of pain and hurt.

There are no people. She is alone, the last one to leave. The first one was her father; years later her mother. Her sister soon after. She is the only one clinging to this existence that doesn’t exist anymore. She is the only one who still sees the spectres silently moving around her in every room.

There is no furniture. Only rubble and detritus. Everything that could be sold, has already been sold. Whatever was left, was already given away. Anything that was still there after that, she was the one who had to throw it away. Mementos of childhood and teenage years turned into figments of imagination, lying now somewhere amongst other trash.

Maybe that’s where they belonged all along.

Nothing remains; no curtains, no appliances, no decoration. Garbage and ghosts is all that’s left. And her, struggling, having to deal with both.

She heads to the front door, stops and looks around, knowing it will be the last time: there is no more violence, at least. There is no more violence, at last.

She locks the door. She walks away, taking the ghosts with her.

The house where she grew up is now, finally, dead.

My room is as big as a Taylor swift beach house it has lavender walls and a whole movie theatre in it with cream and pink cushions for a warm home feeling to enjoy the next blockbuster! It has 100 paintings of all the cats I’ve seen in my life. This is creepy absolutely fucking weird. When you walk down past the painting it opens up into an indoor swimming pool it’s also heated for the winter because winter in Canada is freezing. You know it has millions of books too all about the scary events that happen all over the world and the biggest event that happened here in 1994 that the world is still shocked over!

Where I stand, there are no skyscrapers or smoky glass-covered buildings.

Here, there are no great leafy palm trees or green grass to walk barefoot on.

Most places have a bodega or a convenience store. Not here.

You know what else? There are no street lights, no traffic signals, and no stop signs anywhere. Did I mention there were no cars?

So let me run the list for you: There are no houses, apartment buildings, modular homes or trailers.

Some places have snowflakes or rain. Not here.

I see no churches, synagogues, mosques or temples. Here, there is no school and no college.

In fact, here there aren’t any morals. I don’t think they even have laws against madams with red-light specials.

No colors mark the sky, no flowers in the dirt and no bushes to hide behind.

You name it, and it’s not here. Is this even real?

Note: I’m interested to see if anyone can envision this location. It’s a real place where I once lived. I am working to improve my ability to tell a story that people can see and feel. Any input is greatly appreciated!!!

Other places have some neat things — sweeping glass buildings that touch the clouds, or a thousand different people with a thousand different lives; but not here. Some places, you look up at an endless sky and you see a bright splash of color: blue or grey or pink or orange. Not here. There are places where the sun is hot or the wind is cold, and places that people travel for miles to see. Wild places full of briers and thorns. Not here. I’d love to see the world and all it’s many places, but for now I’d like to lay here, and Drift… Off… To sleep…

No one knows its truth. The stories to be told only come through dreams and prayer. Life exists no more here. There is no more hate or hurt, but also no more healing or happiness. For those longing of this place, their pain will be lost. For those that arrive too soon, the lack of preparation will show.

How do I know so much of a place I have never been? I may have not been, but I know many who have. One’s arrival is not planned, only fate gets to decide. This place holds previously beating hearts. I will be there one day, but for now, ignorance is bliss.

1. No mice
2. No lead paint
3. No stress
4. No gloomy weather
5. Nice people
6. Friends / Family
7. Manners
8. Inspiration
9. Creativity
10. Freedom .

Here there is no concrete No cars whizzing by me No horns scorning silence No opinions being broadcast No fighting with one’s demons No gritty scenes of spirits dying No decay of once proud buildings No hungry souls diving dumpsters No regret of what came before now No fear of what could be I’m in the present quiet Only beauty surrounds me I am at ease in the company of trees

The walls are completely white. No pictures showing my sister and me as small children, playing in a swimming pool or riding on a colorful little trail. The floor has been freshly put down, a gleaming parquet with no dents or scratches from pushing that old piano through the living room or accidentally dropping a log in front of the fireplace.

The rooms are completely empty and my steps echo as I look around. There is no couch to unpack our Christmas gifts for each other or clink our glasses together to celebrate New Year’s. No table cluttered with magazines and pencils, no forgotten crisps and chocolate hidden in the secret drawer beneath.

In the corner there is no bookshelf. No stack of crime novels on the floor because there was no more room on the shelf, between all of the pages and small stones, pictures and souvenirs from various vacations. In this room, there is nothing.

But there will be.

There is no doom scrolling, no app delivery services, and certainly no influencers of any kind. No extremely left, extremely right, or extremely annoying shall enter. There is no rushed pace, nowhere to be, and not a cloud in the sky. Anything that deteriorates our brains and bodies will not be allowed access (cancer, genetically engineered food, Bachelor In Paradise). Religion is a bad word. Dress codes and business jargon are banned. Our land is void of commercial buildings and pharmaceutical commercials. Everything artifical is prohibited (fake grass, fake lips, fake personalities). Live, laugh, love somewhere else but not here in my paradise.

There are no tears here. No pressure in my chest or darkness. When I walk through the streets, no crime or bad people reach me. There is no silence carried with me like before.

My limbs have no weight to them. Nothing holds my body back as it moves and jumps. Emptiness is nowhere in sight. All I can see is the fact that there is no loneliness.

I am not cold or bored. There is nothing in my chest that tries to tell me I am not real. As the darkness comes back, no negative thoughts plague my mind on the walk home.

This time, the feeling of my body does not change the second I cross the threshold. There are still no fears. No space for fears to be, as I am not alone once more.

Until I sit at the table and see the source of all my tears. For she, too, is not here. Neither is fulfillment. Nothing can fill the heart without a Mother.