Clean

I. My own dorm.  The softness of my sheets hugging my body.  My family and friends’ photos lining the cream-colored walls.  The sweet scent of “Volcano” by Anthropologie permeating my room.  My own home.  My personal space.  Where my childhood stuffed animal, MiMi, sat watching with her beady eyes.  God, I wish she would come to life and save me.  My unfinished homework neatly organized on my desk.  My Post-It pinned to my corkboard reminding me to take my heart medicine twice a day, every day: “Do not neglect your health!  Take your medicine!”  A thank-you note from a...

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