She had always been a hoarder. Her house was perpetually in a state of mess. Clothes that hadn't been worn for several years spilled themselves out every time someone braved an attempt to open the wardrobe doors. Her purses were cluttered with used rail-passes, movie-tickets and her wallets still contained credit cards well past their expiry dates. She never discarded anything. Things that were of no value to people were memory imprints for her. She did not consider it junk. It was, for her, a treasure-chest of memories. She stared at the house. Everything was still in its place. Despite the disorder, she still knew where each object was. She never had trouble finding anything.
She sniffed the empty perfume-bottle on her dresser. It still had traces of the fragrance it had stored. She opened one of the drawers and found a broken pendant. It was possible to get the lock fixed but she knew she would never wear it again. It wasn't in her nature to wear an ornament symbolizing broken relationships. Neither could she bring herself to throw the locket away or gift it to somebody else. Suddenly her phone rang and distracted her thoughts. She glanced at the name on the screen. Her cheeks flushed red with anger and her eyes blinked rapidly to stop the tears from streaming. She took a deep breath and, mustering all her strength, answered the call. The conversation lasted more than fifteen minutes. Not once during the conversation did she give the caller any hint of her state of mind. She did not know how to tell people she was upset with them. She hung up and sat on her bed. Tears flooded her face and this time she let them flow. She was tired of this act. She could not play this part any longer.
She looked around one last time. She knew she was not coming back. Earlier, even for a week-long trip, she would pack two suitcases. This time she was leaving empty-handed. As she stepped out to lock the door, she heard her phone ringing inside. For a fleeting moment, she almost went back inside to answer the call but she stopped herself just in time. She could not allow herself to fall into the tempting trap once again. Leaving had never been easy for her especially when she knew she had unfinished business. Leaving without saying a good-bye was even more difficult. However, she had resolved to let go off all the things she feared losing. This was her first step in that direction; and like most first steps are, this was the hardest one to take.
She handed the key to the landlord. The path ahead wasn't simple. She did not know where she was headed. All she knew was that there would be no looking back. She could feel the rush of freedom trickling down her veins as she marched along this road of new adventures, finally, taking charge of her own life.