Violet
The shack that had been my home sat at the very edge of the pack, tucked behind a cluster of overgrown bushes that had swallowed most of the path leading to it.
I hadn't been expecting the tightness in my throat when I saw it again.
It was far smaller than I remembered, and I nearly found it hard to believe I had lived in such a tiny space.
It had seemed bigger back then.
The wooden planks that made up the walls were warped and splitting, the gaps between them now wide enough to see through. The door hung at an angle, one hinge broken, the other rusted. The roof sagged in the middle, and patches of it had rotted through entirely, leaving dark holes open to the sky.
I hadn't left it like this. It was highly likely it had been broken into, which was unnecessary since the door was without a lock in the first place.
I pushed the broken door open without touching it.
The inside was worse.
