RedDo you ever not just miss a person, or miss a person at all, but the environment that was created by them?Red by angrywinters
My sister's room had writing on the walls. Friends and lovers who'd come and gone wrote poems, quotes, numbers. Put up sharpie artwork and painted. Their were pictures of her face up broken and bruised after she moshed her way through a crowd at a Slipknot concert to hug Joey. Post it notes that said "Use condoms bitch!" and "Remember the lye!" on the wall. A hole where she slammed a chicks head while choking her for looking at her man wrong.
There was a medium sized television and a PS2. A small collection of JRPG's and hack and slash games. Cult classics and horror movies. There were pieces of art she'd started scattered everywhere. Mannequins mutilated, sculptures. A pair of goth boots I now own. A desk where her cat Sadie would lay and inside of it spell crafts, potions, charms, and herbs.
I remember the smell of her, strawberries, cigarettes, rain. Always the same smell there