Box, after box, after box. Suddenly her tiny apartment was as messy as her mind was. So frazzled and all over the place. But she couldn’t find what she was looking for.
Her skin was pink with heat and her heart was as unsure as she was.
There were clothes, papers, nicknacks, and pillows scattered everywhere but she still couldn’t find it. Maybe she didn’t need it, but something felt wrong without it. Something felt out of place and so lost.
Every place she could look was disappearing and her eyes were starting to sting. There’s no way she forgot about it, but where could it be?! She was wracking her brain as much as should could as she poured through all the possible hiding places, but there weren’t exactly many places she could even hide things.
With every box opened and things strewn about every place there used to be space, she slammed her back to the wall and shut her eyes. The silence bounced off the walls and hit her hard. This was what being alone was like, and she did not like it. No voices, no footsteps, no soft breathing or snores.
She was in a place so new for the first time, on her own for the first time, and she couldn’t even find the one thing she wanted – maybe needed – the most.
With shaky breaths she managed to pull herself from the floor, and moving so slowly, she finally started to put her things away. They felt foreign in her hands, and not even important.
Once she had gotten things put back in boxes to be put away later, and dishes were placed on the counters, the day had became late enough for her to sift through her suitcase so she could finally sleep in this new place that was too quiet for comfort.
A long zip and she was rummaging through her most used possessions. Her fingers hit something soft, familiar. She pulled whatever it was out and a soft smile found her lips.
A blanket from her mother. She put it to her face and breathed in. It smelled like home.
She curled into it and she knew it would be alright, and this would feel like home soon enough.
At least she found what she had lost.