I walked into the attic, when I started hallucinating.

“Daddy!” Young me screamed, then disappeared.

“Please don’t leave me,” I Begged sitting on my bed.

The hullucinations stopped abruptly.

“Please,” I cried out, my hands on my head.

This house was haunted by all the memories. Suddenly more memories played in my head.

“You don’t deserve this!” Dad said, ripping up my school paper award.

“But—Butt—“ I cried.

“Come here,” His voice—_My_ husband—penetrated my thoughts, His arms wide.

I ran into his arms.

“It will be okay,” He said, gently running his hand through my hair. This gesture comforted me in ways words couldn’t explain.

“I can’t keep this house,” I said through my tears and hiccups.

“Then it’s sold. But are you sure? Will you miss this? This is the last thing from your parents.”

“They died, they would want me to let them go.”

“But do _you_ want to let them go? Are you ready?” He gently pulled me out of the hug so he could see me.

“I don’t know.” I blubbered.

“Let’s go get some coffee.”

“Okay,” That brightened me a little bit.

I needed to leave. I really _wanted_ to leave and sell this house.

I never _really_ belonged in this house.