Memory Lane
Description
The house wasn't crumbling. It was well-kept. It was not majestic but to them it was better than a palace. It was almost paradise.
It was light blue. Surrounded by fences painted white. They weren't daunting or threatening but welcoming, built just enough to keep the children safe, to keep them in. It had a beautiful yard in front. The yard was empty but well-kept where children were allowed to run around and play.
At the back of the house was a garden filled with flowers of various kind. It also has a maple tree growing on one side where a treehouse was built, looking old but still strong. And the garden faced the luscious blue sea that was a view to behold. It even has a small playground where three swings sway when the wind blows a little too hard, where a seesaw creaks whenever its used, and a slide that has definitely seen better days.
It was perfect. Just perfect.
The house held hearts. It held memories. Jars and jars of them of every kind. It held feelings. It held them, kept them safe, and haunted them as well. They were glowing, smiling, laughing, grinning, smirking, sobbing, crying, screaming, bleeding, heart-wrenching, and dying. They were dying too. Just dying.
Because they wouldn't. Because they couldn't. But mainly, because they wouldn't.
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