Sophia
Love and Guilt.
The apartment smells like dust and damp paint. It creaks at night. The lights flicker sometimes like they’re tired, too. I don’t know who lived here before me. I don’t think they cared much about fixing things. But it’s mine for now. And it’s far. Far enough from him. Far enough from the mansion. Far enough from everything that broke.
I didn’t take much when I left. Just a duffel bag and my coat. I forgot half my shoes. I forgot my charger. I forgot to breathe properly for days.
The mornings are the worst.
I wake up too early. The sun doesn’t even touch the window yet. My body jerks me up before my mind is ready. And then it starts again.
Nausea.
I crawl to the bathroom some mornings. Hands trembling against the cold tile. My knees were bruised from the linole
