Inside the empty walls.

I heard the doorbell ring, it was like reading a letter that I already knew what it said. I knew what was coming, so I just sat there, refusing to move, refusing to blink, refusing to think. In my mind if I didn't think about it, if I didn't accept it, than it wasn't real. But there it was again, that familiar ding dong, the chime of the door bell. It echoed off of the empty walls, reverberating through the floors and over the sheet covered furniture. I looked around slowly, the boxes were scattered all over the living room, organized, but scattered, holding the remnants of what was once a beautiful home. My brain finally took control of my body and I slowly stood to my feet, knees popping, showing the signs of one to many mountains. I walked slowly to the door, knowing exactly who and what I would find, but much to my surprise I was greeted by nothing..The porch was empty, aside from the twin pine rocking chairs and welcome mat. My eyes traced downwards through the storm door and settled on a small folded piece of paper that was neatly laid on the mat. I pushed aside the storm door and plucked the paper from its resting place, "strong and courageous" it read, those ever haunting words. I carried the paper to the counter and set it next to the stack of all the others, that read the same thing, in the same handwriting, on the same paper. I knew when I finally mustered up the courage that I would burn them...but until then I would allow them to decorate my counter, just another flat space that needed covering. I walked slowly back and settled in my chair, my head cocked ever so slightly to one side and I once again observed my blank living room, I contemplated what to move next, the boxes were packed, the walls empty. Now it was just a matter of deciding what was worth saving, and what needed to be destroyed. The wind stirred me from me thoughts as it slammed the shutters against the side of the house, I figured I should get back to work and I started moving the boxes, rearranging them so that they were separated into which ones needed to go to storage, and which ones needed to go to the truck. As I started moving the furniture around, trying to consolidate it to one side of the room, I found a small necklace, shaped like a heart, and studded with black diamonds. The memories flooded my brain as a stumbled back, my breathing became rapid and my hand trembled as I slowly reached down and picked it up. I let it dangle in my hand for a moment before quickly dropping it into a random box. Out of sight out of mine I thought to myself. I turned and walked slowly down the hall, into the master bedroom, it was spacious, just like I had always imagined it would be. The bed was big, almost elegant looking as it set atop a large pine frame. I could hear it then...the laughs, the whispers, the passion. I pushed the thoughts from my mind and walked past it into the master bathroom. The mirror greeted me, my hair was disheveled, and may face clearly showed that I hadn't shaved in a couple days. I was a sight for sore eyes. Either I looked like a raging alcoholic, or my bloodshot eyes told a completely different story, but I'll leave that up to you. I continued to stare for a moment at the mirror, than pushed past it to grab the box that sat on the sink. It was relatively light and labeled "truck". For a second I stopped, unsure if maybe I should put it in storage and let it collect dust, but I pushed that ridiculous idea aside and walked out. I knew it wouldn't take long before my remorse turned to anger, and I wanted to make sure I left nothing out that I would regret later. The sun was just starting to set as I pushed the box across the tailgate and into the bed, pausing one last time, to stare at the box, as if I could see through its cardboard walls at its contents. I walked back inside, knowing exactly what was coming, and that nothing I would do, could change or alter what would happen...