Diary Entry

Dear diary,

I am afraid to leave. It's been two years since my mother's death and this house -- with her gone, it's no longer ours. We have to move out, whether we want it or not, as soon as possible.

It's not about the new house. Told to be the truth, it's a lot better than our current house -- granted it has no leaking ceiling and is nicely furnished. Although it's located in a city where its weather can be as hot as the desert, it's more than enough. What's the problem then? You might ask. The problem is the memories.

Yes. Too many memories were crafted at every inch of this old building. Laughters, cries, screams, chatters, accidents... Each room has its own stories, our marks and footprints, and I am not ready to leave them. It pains my heart to even think about it.

Everything and everyone is eventually gone, I know that to the bones. Even so, I am still scared that if there's nothing of those cherished connections and memories I can keep, I'll lose them forever, forgetting that they ever exist...