Raelynn

When I pushed the door, I noticed it hung slightly ajar, an anomaly considering my habit of double-checking the lock.

I stepped into my room which was previously arranged and organized. Instead, the room resembled a battlefield.

Clothes, ripped from drawers, lay scattered across the floor like fallen soldiers. Books were ripped from spines, their pages forming a confetti blizzard.

Even my precious family photo, perched on its stand above my dresser that morning, lay face-down, the glass shattered around the frame.

A strangled gasp escaped my lips. My gaze darted around the room, searching for any sign of an intruder. But the only presence besides mine was the...