How the wind did cry and the snow began to fall

The doorbell rang, and she stood waiting on the porch.

She looked over her shoulder at her car, "I could probably still make it down the stairs to my car and start it up before they got to the front door. I shouldn't have even come" She fantasized about leaving, but her feet stayed firmly in place.

She wasn't quite sure why she was here. It had been years since she had left, but the calm suburban neighborhood was unchanged. Houses lined either side of the street, perfectly groomed landscaping surrounding them. Christmas lights were covering all the trees and bushes, with a few strands hanging from the roofs like icicles. The houses were almost indistinguishable from each other-and she knew that was just how the people who lived in them wanted it.

It was a far cry from the cramped studio apartment she currently occupied. The outside of her graffiti covered building looked downright dirty next to the pristine landscape of the suburbs. She had become so accustomed to the constant noise, that the quiet, eerie rustling of the leaves sent shivers down her spine.

She had always felt out of place, but as soon as she left, she yearned to come back. She had finally gotten over her pride and made the long, trip home from the city. Her anxiety had risen as she passed each exit, all the time thinking what a mistake she was making.

The door opened, yanking her out of her thoughts and into the present. Her mother stood over the threshold, mouth gaping. Withing moments, her mother grabbed her, wrapping her tightly in a hug.

"I can't believe it..." she sobbed into the crock of her daughters neck. "I'm so happy you're here..."

"Me, too, Mom," she answered feebly, fighting back her own tears.

Her mother grabbed her hand and she took her first, hesitant steps into the house as the snow began to fall.