Sandra got to her apartment and she slumped down on the ground letting the tears she was trying to bottled flow freely.
She was happy she was back at home because her house is not just a place she could go to sleep. It was a place where she could be vulnerable, a place where she could let her guard down and not care about who was looking at her.
A place where she could be an uncultured b***h with no one to point out that was what her house means to her.
Author's Note: What does your house mean to you? Let me know in the chapter comment.
Becky enters the room to see Sandra sitting on the floor dejectedly. Her heart for the girl for going through so much at a time. She could not just stomach the fact that a person like that could even experience what was going on.
"What are you doing on the floor?" Becky asked her voice not to be friendly and Sandra knew she might still be mad at her for not telling her about her sickness sooner.
