The dark room reeked of decay and the putrid remains of rotting flesh can still be found through the area. Through the blanket of darkness, the thin outline of furniture is visible. Small items are lost in the never-ending darkness of night; only obtuse and distinct shapes manage to leech their way through to struggling eyes.

The walls of the room almost groan with pain and loss and people move through the doorway, carrying boxes, emptying the room of its identity. The carpet dims with sadness as it is caressed one last time by the touch of strangers reminding it that they will no longer remember and that the lights will forever remain off. The empty bookshelf seems to sigh with sorrow as a cloud of loss covers the room.

Even the mice within the walls lighten their footsteps with simple understanding. They move quieter than usual, keeping out of site while visitors adorned in black enter and exit the house. Finally the room is empty, save for a stripped bed, empty desk and bare bookshelf.

A frazzled woman enters the room, her wild red hair has frizzed from the humid weather and her black dress is spotted with the same tears which dripped from depressed face. Standing in the middle of the room, she places a framed photo atop the desk and sits on the bed. She looks at the bare walls, remembering what life and happiness was once filled within the walls of this tiny bedroom. Tears begin to freely weld in her eyes and slowly fall the paved path of her cheeks, moistening the same route they once took. Her mascara drips with the salty tears, spotting the bare mattress. Standing quickly, the woman runs from the room as she looses control of her emotions and her tears begin to freely flow.