Emma

The world is a blurry, spinning mess of streetlights and shadows. Emma shivers, her thin t-shirt doing nothing to ward off the night's chill. Her feet ache, and her head is pounding with every thudding heartbeat. She sees some stranger's house and start thinking its her house and she pushes the door. Surprisingly, the door is open. A spike of hot anger cuts through the alcoholic fog. "Why the hell is my door open?" She yells into the darkness and her voice echoing back at her. She fumble for the light switch, her hand slapping uselessly against the wall. Nothing happens. "Hello? Who the fuck opened my door?" She calls out. In the distance, she sees the shadow of someone coming out. A thought creeps inside her and she decide whatever happens she will stay firm on the fact that its her house, no matter what that person says.