Karsyn
When I get to my apartment later that night, I’m a little uneasy. Maybe it’s because Mom and I went into some things I haven’t allowed to come to the surface in a long time, or maybe it’s because talking about the incident always brings it back. Either way, I do a ritual I haven’t done in years.
One of the things I insisted on when I moved here was that my apartment have a security system, and now I’m glad for it. Quickly I turn it off, thankful it was still set, but it doesn’t give me the full feeling of safety I need tonight.
As I go through, I turn on every light, look in every hiding place, and force myself to open each closet door in turn. My hands shake as I get to the one in my room. My bottom lip trembles and I almost can’t turn the knob, but I do.
Seeing it’s empty is enough to make tears stream down my face.
“Karsyn.” I bite my lip as I talk to myself. “You got over this a long time ago.”