My childhood home came into view. Fear started in my belly and overcame me. I resisted the urge to turn and run away as fast as I could. 

Instead, I stood still looking at it as memories flooded my mind, leaving me breathless. What stood before me was a reflection of what made me who I am—both the good and the bad.

The structure beckoned, and I moved forward. 

I circled the tree, the swing long gone. The echoes of my cousins’ ghosts cried out, “Tag, you’re it!” And was that a scent of apple pie I smelled? It couldn’t be

Up the front steps, I go. The screen door hung crooked on its hinges. Without bothering to knock, I pushed opened the unlocked wooden door and stepped in. 

“Hello, dear. I’ve been waiting for your return.”  

The past I tried to run away from, met me in the present, and stole my future. 

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