She walked into the house with an air of calm around her. She wasn’t going to fuss; she wasn’t going to fight. Walking towards the back of the house, she grabbed everything in sight that was hers and put it into her duffle bag. For the past month, she’d been slowly moving her items out of the house; his egocentrism finally worked in her favor.

Ten minutes later, she was back at the front door. She turned around and took another look around the astonishing house that used to be her home. The first time she stepped through those doors, she felt like Cinderella after she’d finally met her Prince.

She looked fondly at the couch where he first kissed her.

She looked at the beautiful kitchen where he first cooked dinner for her.

She looked at the spot just in front of the beautiful bay windows that light up the entire living room; at the spot where he first said “I love you”.

Then, she blinked and looked around again; the room went from pink to blood red.

She glared callously at the couch where he first choked her so bad she had to wear scarves and turtle necks for almost a month.

She looked at the beautiful kitchen where he threw a plate of chicken at her because she was 30 minutes late getting home. He accused her of cheating on him even though she spent 20 of those minutes on the phone with him.

She looked at the spot just in front of the gorgeous bay windows where he hit her for the first time.

She threw up her middle finger to the house with the cruel memories and walked out of that door for the very last time.