It wasn’t that it wasn’t supposed to be, it was just that she hadn’t gotten used to the silence just yet. It still felt odd and surreal in a very heartbreaking way to walk in and not hear soft jazz playing on the stereo in the living room, or the clinks and clanks of pots and pans from the kitchen. It felt very wrong that the lights would be turned off and wouldn’t turn on until Alyssa hit the switch herself. It had been almost three weeks since her parents were killed in a tragic car accident, and it still felt like they should be there, in their house, living and growing old together. Alyssa endured the sharp pang of pain that always came every time she stepped into the empty and silent house with the long-suffering bravery of a soldier at war, and she made her way upstairs, dragging her wheeled suitcase up with her. She took her time, relishing the slow pace of her activities. She unpacked and took a long shower, willing the hot spray to melt away the knot that seemed to have taken up permanent residency in the pit of her stomach.
