One Last Time
If only to be with you again.
I hadn’t entered the room since the night that it happened. How could I? Everything about her space remained the same. Frozen in time. I was afraid to face it. Afraid of the day we may move away from this house, and everything she’s ever touched will be lost forever. But tonight, I swallowed my heart and reached for the knob. The white wooden door was covered with posters of her favorite tv shows and musical artists. On top of the collage a sign that said “DO NOT ENTER” was nailed into the wood. Too Bad, Abby. I’m entering.
This is an Exclusive Story for supporters of Ashley Lima
Become a paid subscriber to get access.- Gain access to my current and future Exclusive Stories
- Unlock commenting on Exclusive Stories
- Help sustain my future in writing on Vocal
By supporting a creator you are helping sustain the future creativity of independent writers, poets, journalists, & dreamers.
Payments from subscriptions will go to the creator, and will automatically renew each month. Approximately $2.30 of your monthly contribution will go directly to the creator. The remaining goes to Stripe and Vocal to cover transaction and platform costs.
You can choose to downgrade to a free subscription at any time, at which point you will no longer be charged. Payments are unable to be refunded. Learn more.
About the Creator
Ashley Lima
I think about writing more than I write, but call myself a writer as opposed to a thinker.
Comments (3)
Upgrade to see comments and join the conversation
Become a paid subscriber to get access.👏☺️ It’s a great little Micro. Lots of warmth and atmosphere!
The thick emotion in this piece will linger in me for some time, I think. Rooms hold so much, between the memories and the feelings, the relationships, the sensory overwhelm…I have felt this many times. I have to ask, though…what became of Abby? I went back and forth on a few possibilities, and I can’t settle. I know it doesn’t matter all that much. So I leave it up to you to answer.
Very poignant.