I stare out the gaping excuse for a window and trudge towards it. The cold breeze from outside hits me calmly, swirling my brown hair up behind me, and I can see it did the same to my sister besides me. We’ve always had a love-hate relationship with this house, Cindy and I, a burning love that is fueled by memories purely, and a hate that leaks like a rusty water pipe. I remember all the days of running and laughing near this breaking wooden window, all the times Cindy tripped over her own two feet and I had to help her up, and all the times that Rose was here… Rose was always the best at all our games… I wish she could’ve won the game that took her life, but we can’t all win every time I guess… I shift my weight onto my other foot as I look outside into the city. It’s kind of a dumpy city, but it’s our home, isn’t it?

This house always will be our home…