Shadows of the Past

(Amara’s POV) The sun was just up over the clouds, like it had been waiting for when this moment would finally come. As I stood in my now empty room, I was flooded with memories of my childhood. I remember the day my dad bought me my first skateboard—the joy in his eyes matching mine as I wobbled down the driveway, failing more times than I succeeded, but laughing louder every time I fell. I remember birthday mornings, our burnt pancakes, the smell of his cologne before work… the way he’d kiss the top of my head and call me his “fearless girl.” Fearless. That used to be true. Now? Now, everything felt like it was shifting beneath my feet. Not falling apart—but changing. Faster than I could process. I slid my hand along the wall—empty, bare, no posters, no marks, no trace of the life I’d lived here. Just pale squares where memories used to hang. Mom called from downstairs, her voice echoing in a way that made the house feel even more hollow. “Amara! We need to get going soon!” I swallowed hard, pressing my lips together until I could manage my expression. I wasn’t going to cry. Not today. Not when Mom had been trying so hard to start over after losing him. So I inhaled, squared my shoulders, and whispered to the room, “Thank you… for everything.” And then I walked out.