Packing Your Life Into Boxes

Homes should not be permanent. We are human, we're wild animals not meant for cages.

...yet we still long for the feeling of home

The Beginning of Drew

As Drew traced hearts on the foggy glass window the below zero weather soaked through her knit cap, numbing the aching pain she had not been able to shake since last year. The holidays meant something entirely different to her than to most. It was the anniversary of her death. Though she still pretended to breathe, lifting her chest up and down as pragmatically as possible, the only response it brought was the scornful gazes of whomever would look at her long enough to notice her desperate plea for attention. It was foolish, to pretend to live in a world where life did not exist. Just the same, every year as the holidays rounded the corner she would pull out a fresh roll of Scotch tape and plaster her lips into a spacious smile, her cracked and bleeding lips giving her away each time. It was the contentious behavior of the half living kind that surrounded her that fueled her desire for whatever was above. Just as on Earth love represented the integrity of God, it must be that indifference served the same purpose in this rotting Hell in which she had been plunged into so long ago. The fact of the matter was, it was Cupid and his looming arrow that killed her long before her time.