She is told that she is home and puts her possessions as they were before but somehow, as she is looking around her room, the color is different. There is something unfamiliar and cold about the way her walls look, she realizes. Had it always been this way, but she had just grown used to it?
Those whose blood runs the same as hers are whispering behind her back, she is finding things out later than she should and there is no room for discussion. She tries to reach her voice out, but it falls on deaf ears and is brushed off their shoulders as if it were a nuisance. She is backed up into a corner, the alien sounds of the living room remind her just how alone she is, cooped up in her empty-feeling room. There is no part of the house she feels comfortable.
Tears fall and don't go unnoticed, but silence is what comforts her. She sleeps and wakes, her body restless but her mind wide awake. There is nothing she can do but wait until the next day, where she will be thrust into society again only to come 'home' to a desolate place filled with people that should make her feel welcome and accepted. She sleeps to escape loneliness.
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