Dirty and dank
Cracked walls filled with years of dust and the memories of her crumbled life.
She tried to maintain her former self.
Yellow flowers on the nightstand covered in her grandmother's linen.
A teddy bear from a child she once called her own.
She had been in the room so long,
Her sanctuary turned prison,
The only link to the outside - crumpled newspapers on the floor.
The grayness of the walls closing in,
The rancid odor of the pan she kept at the foot of her bed,
all became too much.
They found her -
Single light bulb in the corner of the room -
Naked body hanging off the bed,
Photos of dreams collapsed strewn 'round her head.
Audrie is a writer and editor living in Illinois. She is a fan of all things horror and pop culture.