The house was just as she'd left it- from the outside, anyway. Same old brick walls, overgrown vines and patterned curtains, drawn to shield it's insides from the horrors of the outside world. Though if the moss blooming from the nooks and crannies of the walls were any indication, the outside world had found it's way in.

Abilene held tight to her bag as she guided the others through the overgrown grass, hopping easily from one stepping stone to another in a way that somehow- despite the time that had passed- felt second nature to her.

For some odd, unexplainable reason, Abilene couldn't help but think that she ought to cut the grass later. It brushed against her legs as she neared the front porch, a sensation uncomfortable yet not unwelcome after years spent chasing birds and church kids, galloping through overgrown shrubbery and tumbling down green hills.