It was midnight. I had left home and I had no where else to go. I left home because I felt like I didn't belong there. Home didn't feel like home anymore. Every burning memory of that house tore me down into a million pieces. That house hurt me more than anything and anyone ever had. I've never felt more hate for a place, I hated this place more than I had hated myself. I hated this place more than I hated the one that broke me. No, I hate this place. This place wasn't where I felt whole. Every time I walked in it didn't feel like a new beginning, it felt like a door to the past and the past is a place where I do not want to be. I hate this place because every time I walk in there, there's memories scattered every where. The kitchen, the table, outside, my bedroom, my hallway. Every where. It's why I'm deciding to let go. I can't be here anymore. I'm not me anymore. This house no longer feels like home..
(Just a testing)
