Snippet #2571388

Catherine gave a huff as she pulled the last box from the taxi. She'd brought everything had when she left for her childhood home, and everything she had fit into four boxes, which held a few hobbies and knick knacks, and one large suitcase, the contents of which were clothes along the lines of: Jeans, brightly colored ankle socks, tank tops, t-shirts, hooded jackets, and two bags of jewelry she usually only wore during her half-time jobs at clubs. The last inhabitants of the suitcase were a brush, chap stick, toothbrush, floss, and toothpaste tucked into a side pocket. No make up, heels, skirts, or dresses, just how she liked it. Catherine wore black Nikes, her only pair of shoes, and her faded blue jeans were being kept on her slim figure with her only belt, black with silver studs that glinted in the porch lights.

Brushing some imaginary dust onto her simple black tank top, she then bent to rifle through a pocket in her discarded jacket for money. "You know," she began, "you didn't have to help me with the boxes. You could have just laid back in the car and wait until I came with the pay. How much?" She looked up at the driver, waiting for an answer, her wallet in hand.

The driver, an older man with kind eyes, shrugged and suggested, "$5.00. And of course I helped you, it wouldn't have been gentlemanly just to lay back and relax while a lady does all the work."

Catherine chuckled in amusement, pulling out five paper bills and handing them to the man before pulling up the handle of her suit case, "Sure. Thanks. Have a nice night, sir." She continued walking up to the door.

"You too, miss." Finally, the older driver got into his worn vehicle and left, leaving Catherine to stand hesitantly outside her old home.

After a few silent moments, Catherine muttered to herself, "C'mon, gotta get this done." And she entered, rolling the suitcase up to lean against a wall next to the boxes. A little while more of standing there, she just listened, thinking silently as she scanned the dusty surroundings for anything. The many items of furniture, having been left there since her parent's deaths, reminded her of ghosts and ghouls with dusty white cloths pulled over them. The air was so thick with the musty smell of the dust that Catherine could feel it tickling the back of her nose, and she shook her head, heaving a large sigh. "No, not yet. Never mind." Without speaking any more than she already had, she grabbed her jacket, slipped it on, and slipped out the door after flipping off the lights. That place was too full, full of dust, silence, and memories, and she had to get out of there. Besides, it was a nice night, and night walks had always been able to calm her nerves.

Something, just a feeling, made her walk towards the outskirts. Maybe she'd go out into the trees, find a little treehouse she'd seen when she was younger and awaken some good, happy memories. Or mabye she'd stay along the streets, breathing in the familiar air.