running down my hands to the tips of my fingertips, the cold, colorless water left me wrinkled. silently watching the soap wash away the dirt and feeling the fragile porcelain slowly slipping from my hands, my mind aimlessly drifted off. and for a sweet moment, i was nowhere.
the footsteps in the distance called out to me. and i was back… i thought.
i turned just as he walked past, catching only a glimpse of a heel before it hid back into its room. and in that instance, my heart crept into my throat. the hair on my arms climbed. and i panicked. i dropped the plate. turned the tap. twirled around and ran to my mom’s room.
in the void between the kitchen and her bedroom, i struggled with my thoughts. what was it that i was scared to find? what was this feeling? and as i pushed the door open, my eyes went to the empty spot beside her, the impression deeply dented beside her. and i let out a sigh.
i wasn’t there.
meaning only one thing. i was still here.
